


Christmas prompts ficfest 2017

by Khalehla



Series: Requests [12]
Category: Football RPF
Genre: Christmas Fluff, M/M, See chapter notes for additional tags, Tumblr Prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-03
Updated: 2018-01-27
Packaged: 2019-02-06 15:52:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 18
Words: 21,275
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12820878
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Khalehla/pseuds/Khalehla
Summary: A collection of Christmas fics based onthese tumblr fic prompts.14. minor Steno, implied Draxler/Kimpembe15. Klose/Müller16. Nueller17. Krametzka, minor Götzeus18. Brandt/Leno





	1. The centre of attention (Ju&Jo, minor Steno)

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to everyone who submitted prompts - these were so much fun! Merry Christmas y'all!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Joshua, a road trip, and the ~~perils~~ joys of sitting in the middle seat.
> 
>  
> 
> **1\. “We’re driving home for Christmas and we’ve decided to carpool to save money and oh God, now we’re stuck in the car for 10 hours and I don’t think I can hide my crush on you for that long”**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For: [Yyydelilah](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Yyydelilah/pseuds/Yyydelilah)
> 
> Pair: Joshua Kimmich/Julian Weigl (minor Steno)
> 
> Tags: Alternate universe - no football, meddling friends, so much pining, supportive families

Road trips always sound like good ideas until you realise that you’re going to be stuck sitting in the middle seat between your sister and your crush.

“What? Why?” Joshua splutters. “Why does Ju have to go with us?”

Bernd squints at him. “I thought you and Ju were friends; why would you have a problem sitting next to him?”

Joshua can feel his face heating up and wants to punch Bernd in the face a little. Bernd knows why, and his so-called friend is forcing himself to admit it with other people around (okay so it was only Marc-André and he probably already knew because Bernd probably already told his boyfriend anyway, but  _still_ ).

“It’s not that,” Joshua hedges, “but wouldn’t going with Thommy and Mats make sense? I mean that car is going to Munich anyways.”

“You want to stick Ju in a car with Mats, Bene, Manu and Thommy? In that little VW that Manu can barely fit into?” Marc asks in disbelief. “Where the hell is he supposed to sit, Jo? On the  _roof?_ ”

Joshua winces. “With Marco and Mario? They’re going to Bavaria too, right? And they have a spare seat.”

“Not anymore; Schü’s gonna visit his family too, so he’s hopping in with Marco,” Marc explains. “They’ll drop Schü off then they’ll pick Ju up at Bernd’s after we drop you and Deb off.”

Joshua sighs in resignation. It did make more sense doing things that way, it was going to be torture though.

“Are you telling me you’re not going to survive three and a half hours sitting next to, and I quote, the guy with the smiliest smile you’ve ever seen?” Bernd grins at him.

Marc laughs and Joshua really, really wants to punch Bernd in the face more than a little bit. A lot, actually; he really wants to punch Bernd a lot. “Shut up,” he mutters, “I hate you both so much.”

“What did I do?” Marc protests mildly.

“Why couldn’t you drive a bigger car?” Joshua demands petulantly. “One with six seats?”

“I’m a chef, Jo, on what salary am I supposed to buy this car you’re talking about?” Marc asks, amused. “Besides, at least I have one.”

“Which you should be grateful for,” Bernd adds. “Or else you’d be catching a train and paying through your nose to get home.”

Which is true. “I am, and thanks for giving me and Deb a lift home; I really appreciate it,” Joshua says quickly; because Bernd was right. It’s really his fault for looking for transport at the last minute, and if they’d had to pay the tickets for a train or flight home for Christmas, he and his sister would probably have had to say good-bye to the Spain holiday they had planned for summer.

“It’s okay,” Marc says generously, “and you never know, it might not be as bad as you think.”

Marc-André ends up being right, but not in the way Joshua thinks. For some reason, his (traitorous) sister tells everyone about how ticklish he is, which of course makes Julian want to test out just how sensitive he is, and Joshua spends half the ride trying to protect himself from both Deborah and Julian trying to get at him.

“Stop!” he laughs, slapping Julian’s hands and trying to twist away from his sister at the same time.  “St- stop i- it!”

But they don’t; Deborah digs into that extra-sensitive spot just under his hip and Joshua jumps high and back and somehow ends up practically in Julian’s lap despite still wearing his seatbelt.  Julian just laughs, wraps his arms around Joshua’s shoulders to hold him down while Deborah does it again. Joshua is laughing so hard he’s in tears and nearly headbutts Julian from squirming so much. In the front, Bernd, the asshole, is filming the whole thing.

“Okay, okay, we better stop now,” Julian concedes when Joshua manages to elbow him in the ribs and nearly punches Marc André in the head over the head rest. “I don’t want to end up with a broken nose for Christmas and Marc needs to concentrate on driving.”

“Damn right,” Marc mutters, even though he’s grinning at Joshua in the rearview mirror.

Joshua slides off of Julian and settles himself in the middle seat again, trying to calm his racing heart down. As Julian, Bernd and Marc start talking about whether it’s worth stopping at the next petrol station for a short break or if they should just keep going, Deborah elbows him lightly.

“Enjoy yourself, there?” his sister asks quietly, lips barely moving.

Joshua glares at her. “You did that on purpose, didn’t you?” he hisses under his breath, hoping to God Julian can’t hear them.

“That little Longchamp bag I told you about would be a nice thank you present,” she smirks at him.

Joshua groans softly.

“At least you got Ju to hug you. I bet that felt nice.”

“I hate you so much.”

“Is everything alright?” Julian asks. He must have heard Joshua’s last comment and looks worriedly between them.

“Oh everything is good,” Deborah grins. “Just talking about how much fun sitting in the middle seat on a road trip is, aren’t we Jo? Nothing to worry about.”

Joshua nods and gives Julian a weak smile. “All good.”

Just then Marc-André turns the car into the entrance to a petrol station and the awkward conversation is over.

But then Deborah leans over to him just as they hop out of the car. “You’re so screwed,” she whispers gleefully, then goes to help Bernd get the snacks out of the boot.

Joshua gapes at her. He’s about to say something rude when he feels a set of arms go around his shoulders.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Julian asks with concern. “I didn’t cross the line did I?”

Joshua shakes his head vigorously. “No of course not; I know it was just fun.”

Julian gives him that megawatt smile and Joshua doesn’t know how he hasn’t melted into a puddle of goo yet.

Deborah’s right. He is so screwed.


	2. Best Christmas cliché, ever (krametzka)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes Christmas clichés make the best presents.
> 
>    
>  **3\. The “All I want for Christmas is you” trope**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For: [bananasplit86](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bananasplit86)
> 
> Pair: Leon Goretzka/Christoph Kramer
> 
> Tags: scheming friends, Germany NT, so much pining

If it weren’t for the fact that Leon had been right there and watching very closely when they set up the secret Santa, he probably would have accused one of his teammates of rigging it.

He stares at his phone, not quite believing that he’s got Christoph. He checks the  _From_  on the email, just to make sure it came from the correct website and not some fake spam account that Max set up, but yep, it’s legit alright. Leon sighs. Not that getting one of his closest friends a Christmas present was ever a hardship, but when said friend also happened to be  _my crush since I was eighteen, goddammit,_  Leon always found it hard to find a gift that was a balance between ‘thoughtful’ and ‘I spent way too long obsessing over what gift to get you’.

“Who did you get?” Julian Brandt asks, peering over Leon’s phone.

Leon quickly puts the screen to his chest. “It’s supposed to be a secret, Jule, you know: Secret Santa. Why would I tell you?”

Julian rolls his eyes, then heads towards the other Leverkusen teammates, probably to see who got whom.

Leon gets out of his email app, then puts his phone away, already wondering what he could get Christoph for fifty euros. It was hard to think of a good one. He had this problem every year (albeit with a budget ten to a hundred times more than this one), but what made it worse this year was that he had to give Christoph the present in front of everyone. His international teammates were amongst the silliest and unforgiving teasers he had ever met; if Leon blushed even just a little bit at Christoph’s reaction to getting his gift (which he did, every year, without fail), those assholes would never let him live it down. Leon’s thankful that he’s managed to keep a lid on being too obvious about his crush and only Max and Benedikt (and Mats probably, too, all things considered) knew about it, but if even just one wrong person found out about it, he’d probably die from embarrassment. 

The national team stories were practically urban legends for native German players, and anyone who had a crush on another teammember and had even just a shred of self-preservation knew to keep their mouths shut unless they wanted to go through The Marco and Mario Courtship in the National Team Experience™, which, from the stories shared by anyone unfortunate enough to have gone through it, just wasn’t worth the embarrassment. Yes they’d gotten together with their crushes in the end, but those were moments when Leon was sure the ends almost didn’t justify the means. The Germany national team players all seemed to think they were sent by Cupid to be a substitute love-god on earth, and Leon was already shuddering thinking about what those idiots would do if they ever found out about the Leon had a crush on one of his closest friends.

Which is why he goes shopping without Max, who, unsurprisingly, immediately gets suspicious. “Who do you have?” Max demands. “It must be someone good if you’re being this secretive. Ooooo did you get Bene? Are you going to get a revenge present from last year? No? Who then? What about Chris? Did you get lover boy? I bet you did! Or maybe Manu? He’d be the worst to get a present for; I mean, what do you get Mr. Perfect, anyway?”

Leon rolls eyes, then asks, “When did Manu become Mr. Perfect? Isn’t that Philipp Lahm?”

Max shrugs. “Lahm’s been retired for years now, and stop trying to change the topic. Who did you get, Leon? Why aren’t you telling me?”

“I’m not telling you because it’s supposed to be secret, Maximilian - you know, those things you aren’t supposed to tell anyone?”

“You told me last year.”

“No, you tricked me into telling you last year; I’m not falling for that again.”

Max huffs. “I’m gonna find out eventually, you know.”

Leon pats his best friend on the shoulder. “Whatever makes you happy, Max.”

In the end, Leon settles for the ‘funny but safe’ gift and gets Christoph a tie and a funny Christmas sweater that he could wear for actual Christmas (he was going to get the one with the [upside snowman with the carrot for a nose](http://t.umblr.com/redirect?z=https%3A%2F%2Fimages.fun.com%2Fproducts%2F36111%2F1-1%2Fsnowman-balls-christmas-sweater.jpg&t=MTNkMjZhOTk4M2Q1MTBkZDA5YzI5YTEyYWVhMzZlOTRmMTZkOGRiZixqazgxUG9veg%3D%3D&b=t%3An-lioEUXe-yT7xoAE8b67w&p=https%3A%2F%2Fkhalehla.tumblr.com%2Fpost%2F168084185937%2Fbest-christmas-clich%C3%A9-ever-bananasplit86-replied&m=1), but figured it wasn’t PG enough to wear for a family event).

Three days before Christmas, he’s got his Secret Santa present and few other ones for Benedikt, Julian Brandt and Joshua (who he’d gotten to know really well at the Confed Cup) and he and Max are on the way to Mom & Dad’s Place (aka the Hummels-Höwedes Secret Love Nest, aka the Die Deutschenationalmannschaft Secret Lair for Secret Shenanigans) both buzzing and excited. The party is starting to pick up by the time they get there, and the giant Christmas tree is already surrounded by presents.

Leon sometimes forget that, despite being pains in the ass, his teammates are energetic and fun, and by the time the gift exchange starts, Leon’s already buzzing from the alcohol, won and lost at darts, teamed up with Julian Brandt to get their asses kicked by Marc-André and Marco at pool, and eaten his body weight in prawn canapes (which were both delicious and seemingly endless).

“Okay, you all know how it goes,” Benedikt says shortly. “Toni’s going to be our official photographer, so make sure you all smile for the camera.”

As host, Benedikt gets the exchange going, and hands Niklas Süle his gift. As a newbie to the national team, Niklas has to open his present, and he guffaws out loud when he pulls out a shirt that has “World’s tallest elf” on it, and everyone laughs when Benedikt makes Niklas put it on so he can lift the front of the shirt over the tall defender’s face to show a picture of Niklas’ face as an elf.

The gift giving goes pretty quickly after that, with the usual majority prank gifts, a handful of boring ones, some of the non-newbies choosing not to open their presents until actual Christmas (Christoph was one of those and Leon was secretly relieved) and Bernd Leno taking one look into his box, slamming the lid shut, blushing furiously and punching Mario in the shoulder; naturally everyone tries to figure out what the hell Mario got for Bernd, but the Leverkusen keeper somehow manages to keep it a secret and even Mario isn’t telling.

The other gifts get given out then (Leon gets his usual from his closer friends), and is, for some reason, surprised when Christoph pulls him into the hallway to give him his present.

“What’s this?” Leon asks, carefully holding the beautifully wrapped gift.

“You didn’t think I’d forget to get you something, did you? I mean, it’s not like I’ve gotten you one every year for the past four years or anything,” Christoph asks with an amused lift of his eyebrows.

Leon blushes, then automatically feels guilty. “I didn’t get you anything aside from your Secret Santa gift,” Leon apologises. “I completely forgot. I don’t know why. I mean, I always get you one too, but this year I got you for the gift exchange and shit! I should have gotten you something else, too. Sorry.”

“Hey, none of that,” Christoph says, shaking him lightly. “You know I don’t care about that, just being able to celebrate with you somehow is all I need.”

Leon can’t help it, Christoph’s words make his heart leap and hope spring up - which he automatically squashes down because Christoph is talking about Leon’s  _friendship_ , of course; there’s no point in getting excited when Leon knows that Christoph means it all  _platonically_. Which sucks, but hey, the truth hurts sometimes. That doesn’t mean Leon knows how to respond though, because that was so genuinely adorable and so sincerely Christoph and the only thing that comes out is, “Wow, really rocking the Christmas clichés there, pal.”

Christoph blushes, then punches Leon in the shoulder. “It’s not.”

Leon grins. “‘All I want for Christmas is you”? That’s the clichést of all clichés, Chris. The only way it could possible get even more cliché is if you had the song playing in the background.”

“Hey, I’m trying alright?”

“You know I’m never get let you forget about you channeling your inner-Mariah Carey on me; ever.”

“When did you become such an asshole?” Christoph mutters, blushing some more.

“From hanging around this lot,” Leon laughs, sticking his thumb in the general direction of the living room. “Rubs off on you after a while.”

“You’re enjoying this too much.”

“I  _sure_  am.”

Christoph groans, pinches the bridge of his nose, then says, “fine, if you’re going to be like that about it, I do want my Christmas present then.”

“Yeah? Anything in particular?” Leon puts his hand up before Christoph can come up with something ridiculously difficult to buy. He hated Christmas shopping so late in the year, and Leon wanted to make sure whatever Christoph chose would be easy to get. “I promise to get you anything you want so long as I don’t have to go into a mall to buy it.”

Christoph looks at him seriously for a moment, and Leon’s half afraid that his friend is trying to come up with something complicated and hard to get even if he didn’t have to fight hordes of Christmas shoppers for it.

“No, not in a mall,” Christoph eventually says slowly. “You don’t even have get it for me if you don’t want to.”

 _What the hell?_  Leon thinks. Why wouldn’t he want to get his  ~~crush~~  friend a Christmas present? That was so nonsensical. “Just tell me what it is and I will happily give it to you.”

For some reason, Christoph takes a deep breath, squares his shoulders and mutters “now or never”, then points at the ceiling.

Confused, Leon looks up; his jaw drops down when he realises that they’ve been standing under mistletoe this whole time. He dips his head slowly and gapes at Christoph. “What?” he asks stupidly, because seriously, what?

“All I want for Christmas is you,” Christoph replies softly, blushing harder than ever before. “That is, if you want me, too.”

For a few blissful seconds, Leon lets himself float in a bubble of intense happiness, relishing at the thought that Christoph - the person he’s had an intense crush on for the past three years - wants him too. He gives himself this short period of time, pretending that his feelings towards his friend aren’t unrequited and that Christoph cares about him more than just close friends. But then the years of pining and doubt crash back into the bubble and he comes back to reality. “I’m sorry, I didn’t get that; I thought you said you wanted me.”

Christoph nods, still blushing. “I did.”

Leon blinks. “You did?”

“I did,” Christoph repeats, firmer this time.

Leon still can’t believe it. After so many years of wanting quietly, it’s a big thing to just accept like that. “But  _why?_ ”

“Why wouldn’t I?” Christoph shrugs. “You’re kind, talented, generous and fun; what’s not to like?”

“You like me?” The disbelief is slowly, oh so slowly crumbling away, and Leon so desperately wants to believe that Christoph can want him too, but he has to be sure. “I mean, not just as friends? Is that what you mean?”

“That’s exactly it,” Christoph says, tentatively taking his hand. “I would have thought you got the message when you realised I dragged you under the mistletoe, but in case you’re still not sure, yes, I really like you Leon. Romantically. As in I want to date you if you think you could like me too. And kiss you. A lot. I really want to kiss you, too.”

Leon looks up again at where the mistletoe is hanging (he could have sworn that wasn’t there when he first arrived), then gives a Christoph a slow grin, his joy bubbling over. “Okay,” he whispers, before leaning over and unceremoniously pressing their lips together.

Christoph makes a strangled noise, then quickly gets with the program, grabbing Leon by the hips and nudging him up against the wall. Leon fists the front of Christoph’s shirt, dragging him closer so that he can suck on Christoph’s lower lip, making the ‘Gladback midfielder pull back with a gasp.

“Woah,” Christoph breathes out, and Leon’s fiercely happy to see just how flustered Christoph looks just from that one short kiss.

“That was a ‘yes’ about the dating thing,” Leon says, giddy with happiness. “Just in case I wasn’t clear enough.”

Before Christoph can say anything though, there’s the loud  _crack!_  of party poppers and someone loudly exclaiming “finally!”

Down the other end of the hallway are Marco, Benedikt and Max.

“Jesus, took you guys long enough,” Marco says, shaking his head as the three make their way over. “I thought we’d have to put up with another couple of years of pining before one of you finally cracked.”

“What are you even doing here?” Leon asks. He reluctantly pulls away from Christoph, and he’s not going to forgive his best friend if Max just ruined his and Chris’ moment.

Max rolls his eyes at him, but turns to Christoph instead. “I told you it would work; he’s such a sucker for romantic shit like this.”

To Leon’s surprise, Christoph just mutters “yeah, yeah”, and it hits him. “Wait, you  _planned_  this? With Max?”

“And us,” Benedikt nods. “Someone had to keep everyone away; we didn’t want your first kiss witnessed by a cheering crowd of idiots.”

“And we had to put the mistletoe up,” Marco adds. “Had to help set the mood you know.”

Leon stares at them. That’s. Remarkably sweet, actually. Even for Max, who’s looking far too smug for Leon’s liking. “You’re going to take credit for this, aren’t you?” he asks his best friend.

Max grins. “I’m going to remind you forever. Everytime I need a favour, gonna remind you who finally convinced your loverboy to say something because you were too chicken to. You now owe me your happiness.”

“Max!” both Christoph and Benedikt admonishes the shorter Schalker with disapproving frowns.

“Fine!” Max relents, pouting at his former captain. “But at least a year. I’ll remind you for a year.”

“Yeah we can live with that,” Christoph shrugs, moving closer again and pulling Leon to him with an arm around the waist. “Not like we can stop you totally anyway. But if you don’t mind, you guys kinda interrupted and I’d like another five minutes with my boyfriend, please.”

Leon just about melts. Christoph referred to him as his ‘boyfriend’!  _Boyfriend!_

“We’ll try to keep everyone away until you get back,” Benedikt promises as they turn to leave. “But don’t take too long; you know what the team is like, they can sniff an opportunity to embarrass someone from a mile away.”

Leon would normally worry about the truth in his former captain’s words, but then Christoph’s already nibbling at the corner of his mouth, and right now he has much more important things to worry about. He gasps when Christoph pushes him up against the wall again.  _Much_  more important.


	3. Best laid plans (Steno)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things don't always go to plan, but that doesn't necessarily mean things can't be perfect.
> 
>  
> 
> **6\. Spending Christmas separately but then driving/flying over to surprise them**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For: anon
> 
> Pair: Marc-André ter Stegen/Bernd Leno
> 
> Tags: Alternate universe - non-football, supportive families

Marc-Andre hasn’t even had time to register what Daniel is telling him when his phone starts ringing. He’s still reeling from shock and disappointment when he notices that it’s his brother video-calling him, and he answers just to give himself time to recover.

“What?” he asks abruptly.

His brother arches an eyebrow at him. “You look like someone hit you over the head with a broom; is everything alright?” Jean-Marcel asks.

“I uh-” Marc snaps his mouth shut, not sure how to explain without breaking down into ugly sobs and embarrassing himself with so many witnesses around. “I’ll tell you later?”

“Sure, whatever,” Marcel says with a wave of his hand. “I have something to show you that will make you smile.”

“I don’t think now’s the time,” Marc starts, but gets interrupted again.

“No, I promise it will make whatever shitty day you’re having better!”

Marc seriously doubts it, but he’s curious enough that he looks up at Daniel and Viktora (who are trying very hard not to eavesdrop on the conversation but hello, they’re on speaker so it can’t be helped) and shrugs an apology at them; they just smile in response. The phone gets a bit shaky as his brother moves a bit too quickly, then Marc has to blink really hard when he sees what, or more accurately,  _who_ , Marcel wanted to show him.

“HI,” Bernd smiles weakly to him.

Marc-André shakes his head in effort to get his brain to work. There is no way that can be Bernd standing there next to his brother (and Denise. And parents) - the same Bernd he wanted to surprise visit so woke up at the ass-crack of dawn on Boxing Day for a four-hour train and bus trip. No way was Bernd  _there_ in Mönchengladbach, at  _Marc’s_  parents’ house, when he was supposed to be  _here_ , in Bietgheim-Bissingen where Marc had traveled  _for four hours_  so that he could surprise him.

“What?” Marc says in confusion, because his brain still hadn’t processed what he was seeing.

Marc can hear giggling behind him, and he can see Bernd’s entire family standing there with massive grins on their faces and reality suddenly hits. He glances at his phone again, and yup, that’s Bernd on the other end alright. “Oh god,” he mutters in defeat.

“Surprise?” Bernd’s offers sheepishly.

Marc-André can’t help it, he cracks up laughing. That seems to be the cue because everyone in both Mönchengladbach and Bietgheim-Bissingen end up bursting into loud laughter at the same time.

“Really?” Marc asks when he’s got himself under control. “The hell, dude?”

“You two are such disasters,” Daniel says behind him. “No-one else would try to do something disgustingly romantic like this then end up ruining it for each other.”

Marc and Bernd groan simultaneously, which for some reason makes everyone laugh again.

“This surprise didn’t end up going the way I wanted it to,” Marc says sadly. It had been such a good idea -  and at any other time the fact that both he and Bernd thought of it at the same time would be incredibly sappy and overwhelming - but right now they were 400 km and 4 hours away from each other and it’s just depressing.

Marcel must notice because his brother throws his arm around Bernd’s shoulder then. “Don’t worry, baby brother, we’ve got it all figured out for you.”

Marc ignores being called ‘baby brother’ and looks between Marcel and Bernd. “I don’t understand.”

Bernd gives him a soft smile. “We’ll be there about mid afternoon.”

“How?” Marc blurts out, still not getting it.

Marcel rolls his eyes. “Because we’re way too nice to you, we are going to bring your beloved honey-bunny there to you so this surprise isn’t a total waste. Me, Denise and the parentals. We will deliver Bernd to you personally. And yes, I’m the best brother in the world, thanks for reminding me.”

Marc-André can’t see his parents on the screen anymore, but he asks anyway. “Really? All of you? But you had plans.”

“Yes really, all of us. Not like we really had much planned except eat and watch a movie; nothing we can’t do there. We’re going to pack all the food in containers and bring everything down with us.”

“You can have dinner with us here,” Viktoria calls from behind them.

Marc spins around to gape at Bernd’s sister-in-law. “Serious?”

“Why not?” Daniel shrugs. “It’ll be fun, like a family meet and greet.”

Marc isn’t so sure about the ‘family meet and greet” part, but they can’t exactly say no when Daniel and Viktoria offered and his entire family has decided to drive down anyway. Besides, he really, really wants to see Bernd and he’ll put up with the embarrassment and teasing if it can still happen today. When Bernd nods at him, Marc agrees.

“Okay we’ll see you guys about mid-afternoon then,” Marcel says. “We gotta pack first and it’ll probably take longer for us to get there, but we should be there in time for dinner at the latest.”

Daniel lets Marc set his things down in the spare room where Bernd normally stays if he’s not at his parents’. “Bernd’s staying at mom and dad’s, but unless you want to go home with your brother later or don’t mind staying with my parents, you’re both welcome to stay here.”

“Um thanks, but I guess it’s whatever Bernd wants to do.”

“I get the feeling he’s going to say it’s whatever you want to do,” Daniel grins. “But offer’s open.”

Marc-André spends the next few hours nervously chatting with Rosa and Viktor, playing with the kids, and helping in the kitchen when he can. There’s not really much to do but time passes by so quickly that he’s actually startled when the doorbell rings. When everyone turns to look at him, Marc blushes at their attention.

“Wanna get the door, Marc?” Viktoria asks, lips twitching because she’s trying hard not to laugh. “I get the feeling that’s your Christmas present being delivered.”

Marc’s face is so hot he’s afraid his hair is going to catch fire any second now. “Uh, yeah, sure if you want,” he stutters at her teasing.

“Go on then.”

Marc makes his way to the older Leno brother’s door, takes a deep breath, then opens it slowly. Even though he was perfectly aware of who is outside, Marc’s breath still catches when he sees Bernd standing there. “Ahhh…” he says unintelligibly.

“Hi,” Bernd says softly, and  _oh_ , there are those dimples Marc loves so much.

They’re not even given time to do anything but smile shyly at each other, when Jean-Marcel and Denise crowd at Bernd’s back and practically yell “SURPRISE!” at them.

Bernd flinches and Marc glares at his brother.

“What?” Marcel asks, all innocence. “Why do you look so grumpy when we’ve just personally delivered you your best Christmas present ever? Honestly, most people would be more grateful.”

Marc-André feels guilty then, because his brother is right and it really is a such a huge deal that his entire family decided to drive down to Stuttgart a few days early just because he and Bernd had comic timing.

“Thank you,”  he says simply, trying to inject all his appreciation and thankfulness into those two words.

His brother must get it though, because Marcel just rolls his eyes and asks, “Well, aren’t you going to invite us in?”

The questions snaps both him and Bernd out of the moment, and Marc looks to Bernd, since technically, Bernd had more right to be welcoming Marc’s family in than Marc.

“Come in, come in,” Bernd says, stepping to the side even as Marc moves deeper into the hallway. Renate gives Marc a quick peck on the cheek, murmuring “see, you still got to see each other” and making Marc blush again. When everyone’s standing in the hallway taking off their coats and shoes, Marc finally gives in to the impulse and pulls Bernd to him for a hug, taken by surprise when Bernd pulls back for a quick kiss.

“Awww,” Denise coos, even as Marcel - an actual five year old - exclaims “Ewww, my eyes!”

“Marcel, stop teasing them, you’ve had your fun already,” Renate says firmly, making Marc’s older brother laugh.

“I can’t help it! This is epic. One of those embarrassing stories you get to tell everyone at their wedding.”

Marc groans, muttering “Shut up, Marcel,” even as he feels his face heat up again (because did his brother know about those pages of men’s jewellery he had bookmarked on his tablet? God, he hoped not!). He reluctantly lets Bernd go. “Ready?” he asks softly.

“I’ve been ready since we hopped in the car four hours ago,” Bernd smiles. “Don’t worry, we’re here right? Everything’s perfect.”

When Bernd clasps their hands together and leads his family into the living room where the entire Leno clan is waiting for them, Marc-André thinks that yeah, everything is definitely perfect.


	4. For science (somki)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Roman likes to think that _for science_ is a valid excuse for more kissing.
> 
>  
> 
> **3\. The “Accidentally caught under the mistletoe” trope**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For: [Chocabel](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chocabel)
> 
> Pair: Yann Sommer/Roman Bürki
> 
> Tags: meddling teammates, so oblivious, for SCIENCE is a good excuse for anything

It’s not that Roman didn’t know that it was going to happen, because hello, every year it was the same old same old and no, it wasn’t a surprise, but the thing is, he’s managed to avoid getting caught in the mistletoe pranks for the past three years. Looks like his luck had finally run out, because here he is, last training session of the year, and somehow, by some tragic cosmic timing, he and his two fellow goalkeepers were standing under a large piece of mistletoe hanging off the top netting of the goal.

“No way,” Roman says in disbelief. “No. Effing. Way.”

But Granit just crosses his arms and smirks. “No choice,” the midfielder says smugly. “You guys know what comes next, right?”

“Where did that come from?” Marwin demands, looking perplexed.

“Does it matter? Rules are rules. Now hurry up, I wanna get to to the dining room before all the good desserts are taken.”

Roman isn’t quite prepared to have Marwin just roll his eyes and sigh. He’s even less prepared when Yann laughs, turns to him, pulls him in with an arm around his waist, then kisses him full on the mouth. Roman’s brain goes into a bit of meltdown when Yann lets go straight after, grabs Marwin by the face and kisses him loudly on the cheek.

“Whoop yeah!” Granit laughs and punches the air. “Finally! I can tick you guys off my list now.” He grabs the mistletoe and tucks into his waistband, moving on to see how many more people he can catch.

“That guy,” Marwin laughs, shaking his head.

“Right?” Yann agrees. “He’s getting more creative every year.”

“What I want to know is how he even got that thing there without us seeing? I could have sworn it wasn’t there when we set up.”

Yann tips his head to the side and purses his lips together. “I think I saw him lurking earlier when we were playing the 8-a-side; maybe then?”

Roman startles when Yann and Marwin turn to look at him. “Um, I didn’t see him come close?” he hedges, still frazzled because Yann had kissed him. On the mouth. The. Mouth. This just makes Roman focus on the mouth of said person who kissed him on the mouth, and oh. Yeah. Those were very kissable lips. Like, how did he not notice that before? Because those lips were very kissable. And Roman thinks that he’d maybe like to kiss them again sometime. Okay, correction; he most definitely wants to try kissing them again. Sometime soon. Preferably a little bit longer though so he can actually enjoy it this time. Maybe, a minute or two. Or more. Just to be 100% sure he got the full kissing experience, so that he could tell if his expectations lived up to reality. Yeah, that’s it. Looooong minutes of kissing. To test a hypothesis. For science. Testing things for science was always acceptable.

Roman’s musing on just how many minute would be an acceptable period of time for scientific research is interrupted by Marwin who is snapping fingers in his face.

“What?” Roman asks tetchily, leaning away from his fellow goalkeeper’s hand.

“Dude, where did you go? You just spaced out there.”

Roman blinks at Marwin. “Did I?”

“Yeah,” Yann nods, “are you okay?”

Roman wants to say _no, because you kissed me on the mouth. Whyyyyyyyyyy?_ but instead he says, “I’m hungry,” which, although ridiculous, is at least in context of it now being lunch time.

Yann reaches over and gently squeezes the back of his neck; Roman just about manages to not whimper at how good it feels.

“We better finish packing up then,” Yann says. “Granit’s right, we gotta get back quickly if we don’t want to miss out on dessert.”

Roman nods, and is about to follow Yann to gather up the rest of their gear, when Marwin grabs him by the arm.

“What?” Roman finally asks when Marwin just smirks at him.

“Don’t think I don’t know exactly what happened there,” the Augsburg keeper says softly. “You’re so obvious.”

Roman raises an eyebrow, trying to aim for ignorance. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

Marwin just smirks even more. “You’re not the only who noticed that walking shampoo advertisement over there kissed _me_ on the cheek but _you_ on the mouth.”

Roman prays to God that he isn’t blushing. “And?” he asks, not willing to admit anything.

“I think you owe Granit a big present for Christmas as thank you. I hear he likes dark chocolate.”

Roman doesn’t even have time to sputter out a response when Marwin casually walks off on him. Roman wants to deny everything, but then he thinks about soft kissable lips and scientific research and maybe, just maybe, Marwin is right about the Christmas present after all.


	5. Poker face (Neukreutz, minor Hömmels)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kevin has something to prove
> 
>  
> 
> **7\. The “Fake dating/bringing someone home for the holidays to get the family off their backs” trope**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For: [Natteravn](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Natteravn)
> 
> Pair: Manuel Neuer/Kevin Großkreutz (minor Hömmels)
> 
> Tags: meddling teammates, meddling families, surprise mothertruckers!

Sometimes Kevin really, really wished that he wasn’t stubborn as fuck and had a tendency to always wanted to prove himself.

Sometimes Kevin also really, really wished that Manuel wasn’t a competitive asshole who couldn’t say no to a dare.

Kevin also wouldn’t mind that Benedikt could control his husband, because Mats Hummels was the worst enabler in existence and Kevin really, really wished that he could just once say no to Mats’ deliberate goading, because then he wouldn’t be in this situation. And what was this situation? Trying to explain to his meddling relatives why he’d brought Manuel to their family Christmas party. And how did they get to this situation? Well it went along something like this:

 **Very Drunk Mats:** I shwear you’re so sit at poker Großkreutz, you need to work on your poker fashe. Your tellsh are sho ooooobvioush.

 **Very Drunk Kevin:** Fuck you Hummels I don’t have a tell. You just cheated!

 **Very Drunk Mats:** Yesh you do! Ish when you clench your teeth like thish

 **Very Drunk Kevin:** Do not! Tell him Bene! Tell him I don’t have a tell!

 **Very Drunk but still a lot more sensible Benedikt:** Sorry Kev, but you do. Don’t worry, we still love you.

 **Very Drunk Kevin:** You know what? You two can fuck each other. I don’t care if I have a tell! Everyone has one!

 **Very Drunk Manuel:** I don’t. I don’t have a tell. I don’t have anything. Just a perfectly straight poker face. Pa-pa-poker face.

 **Very Drunk Mats:** God pleashe don’t shing. You can’t shing for sit.

 **Very Drunk Kevin:** For once, I have to agree with Mats.

 **Very Drunk Manuel:** PA-PA-POKER PA-PA-POKER FACE!

 **Very Drunk Kevin:** STOP STOP STOP!

 **Very Drunk Manuel:** PA-PA-POKER PA-PA-POKER FACE!

 **Very Drunk Kevin:** BENE FOR THE LOVE OF CHRISTMAS MAKE HIM STOP!

 **Very Drunk but still a lot more sensible Benedikt:** Manu, please? For me? I have a headache.

 **Very Drunk Manuel:** Fine! But y’all have to admit I have the best poker face.

 **Very Drunk Mats:** Nope

 **Very Drunk Kevin:**  No

 **Very Drunk Manuel:** PA-PA-POKER!

 **Very Drunk Mats:**  Yesh okay jush SHTOP

 **Very Drunk Manuel:** I win!

 **Very Drunk Kevin:** Snot a competition Manuel

 **Very Drunk Manuel:** You’re only saying that coz you’re losing, Kevin

 **Very Drunk Kevin:** Am not

 **Very Drunk Manuel:** Am too

 **Very Drunk but still a lot more sensible Benedikt:** Guys, please stop. I have a headache.

 **Very Drunk Manuel:** I win at everything

 **Very Drunk Mats:** Thatsh becosh you sho pretty Manu. You sood have been an actor

 **Very Drunk Kevin:** Bah! Manu would make a bad actor. He has one facial expression.

 **Very Drunk Manuel:** That’s not true! I’m a fantastic actor!

 **Very Drunk Kevin:** Am not

 **Very Drunk Manuel:** Am too

 **Very Drunk Kevin:** Prove it!

 **Very Drunk Manuel:** Okay! I’ll prove it!

 **Very Drunk but still a lot more sensible Benedikt:** Ah I don’t think that’s a good idea…

 **Very Drunk Manuel:** No! I gotta prove it!

 **Very Drunk Kevin:** Yeah? How?

 **Very Drunk Mats:** I know I know! Ooo pick me! Pick me! I have the perfectesh idea!

 **Very Drunk Manuel:** Okay go!

 **Very Drunk Kevin:** This better be good Hummels

 **Very Drunk Mats:** Okay! Manu, you gotta pretend to be Kevin’sheshesh boyfriend!

 **Very Drunk Kevin:** WHAT

 **Very Drunk Manuel:** WHAT

 **Very Drunk Mats:** I told you ish perfect! Bene-bear, I shed it wash perfect, yeah? It’sh perfect, yeah?

 **Very Drunk but still a lot more sensible Benedikt:** Actually, yeah it is

 **Very Drunk Kevin:** WHAT. HOW.

 **Very Drunk but still a lot more sensible Benedikt:** No way Manu could pretend to be in love with you. He thinks he’s a good actor, but he’s not THAT good.

 **Very Drunk Manuel:** EXCUSE ME I AM A VERY GOOD ACTOR I SAID I WOULD PROVE IT AND I’M GONNA PROVE IT

 **Very Drunk Mats:** Okay Manu you gotta be the shweetesh boyfriend and be all lovey dovey and other people have to be CONVINSHED

 **Very Drunk Kevin:** hey what about me? Don’t I get a say in this? And I say no

 **Very Drunk Manuel:** What’s wrong Kevin? Are you scared I’m going to be too CONVINCING?

 **Very Drunk Kevin:** Fuck off Neuer, I’m not falling for that

 **Very Drunk Mats:** Kevin’s probably shcared HE would be the one that can’t pretend to be your boyfriend.

 **Very Drunk Manuel:** That’s true. Kevin’s not as good as an actor as me. His acting is just as bad as his poker face.

 **Very Drunk Kevin:** Excuse me. EXCUSE ME

 **Very Drunk but still a lot more sensible Benedikt:** It’s okay Kevin. It’s okay for you to not agree if you don’t think you can do it

 **Very Drunk Kevin:** What. WHAT

 **Very Drunk Mats:** We won’t hold it againsh you

 **Very Drunk Manuel:** Yup. Not your fault you can’t act as good as me.

 **Very Drunk Kevin:** You know what? Fuck you all! You think I can’t act? I’m going to PROVE I’m an even better actor that any of you. You! You’re coming with me to my family Christmas party and you better believe I’m going to be CONVINCING!

In hindsight, it wasn’t a very good idea, especially since Extremely Sober Mats Who Somehow Remembered The Conversation The Next Day made sure to tell Kevin’s meddling cousin Marcel and they were pretty much forced to go along with it.

“You are such an idiot,” Marcel says, looking between Kevin and Manuel who’s holding a plate of cheese and fruit as though he’s shielding himself from all of Kevin’s meddling relatives.

[Manuel so is]

Kevin runs a hand through his hair in frustration. “You’re not helping,” he grouses.

“No seriously, why not just say no?”

“And let them win?” Manuel asks, pausing as he pops a grape in his mouth. “Why the fuck would I want to do that?”

“When Mats told me, I thought you were both just saying yes and then gonna flake at the last minute; I am honestly just as shocked as everyone else.” Marcel squints at them. “How much is he paying you?”

“He’s not,” Kevin admits grouchily. “It didn’t really cross my mind.”

“Meaning you were too drunk and too eager to prove yourself,” Marcel guesses. “You know what, good luck, because you’re gonna need it. There is no way in hell either of you are good enough actors to pull this off.”

Manuel narrows his eyes and chews slowly. “Are you saying that I can’t pull off a convincing boyfriend?”

Kevin groans. “Here we go.”   

Manuel rather forcefully wraps an arm around Kevin’s waist and pulls him close. “Come here cupcake, try this cheddar with truffle; it’s delicious.”

“Manuel, if you try to feed me that I will stab you with my bread knife.”

“Well that’s not a nice thing to say to your boyfriend, Kevin,” Manuel tuts him. “What happened to ‘convincing’?”

Kevin glares at him and without breaking eye contact, clasps Manuel’s hand that is still holding out the cheese and brings it to his mouth. Very slowly, Kevin feeds himself the cheese, savours it in his mouth, and just for effect, licks the tips of Manuel’s fingers. “Mmm, you’re right, that was delicious,” he says in his most sickeningly sweet tone. “How about the strawberries? Were they good too?”

To Manuel’s credit, despite the fact that he’s blushing something severely, just goes with it. “They’re okay, but why don’t you try the raspberries? They taste even better when you eat them with the green grapes at the same time.”

“Sounds decadent,” Kevin practically purrs.

Manuel grabs the two piece of fruit from the platter and pops them in Kevin’s mouth, brushing his thumb against Kevin’s lower lip when Kevin starts to chew.

“Oh that’s good,” Kevin practically moans. “When did you learn to do that and why have you only told me about this now?”

Manuel practically leers at him.

Marcel makes a disgusted noise. “Okay you’re kinda laying it on a bit thick now.”

Manuel feeds Kevin some more grape. Kevin licks Manuel’s fingers. They’ve yet to break eye contact.

“Ewww can you two stop now? That’s gross,” Marcel complains.

“Sorry cous,” Kevin says, not even slightly apologetic, “just being convincing, you know.”

Kevin opens his mouth and waits for Manuel to pop another cube of truffle cheddar in his mouth; this time the moan isn’t exactly faked.

“Okay, I’m starting to lose my appetite. Why don’t you save the shmarminess for another audience?”

Kevin gives his cousin the most smug look. “Who you saying can’t act, now?”

Marcel gives them both the stink eye. “That was so exaggerated no way in hell anyone’s going to fall for it.”

“You’ll see,” Manuel says just as smugly.

Marcel keeps a close eye on them, which is not a hard thing to do since, just like every year, they sit together on the same table as far away as possible from certain family members. This doesn’t mean they get left alone though; it’s the exact opposite actually since just about everyone wants to find out more about the hunky beefcake (“Aunt Ida’s words, not mine!”) that Kevin seems to be dating that no-one else knew about. By the time they were all ready go for third helpings, Marcel had had enough of the casual touching and light blushing and general gushing at each other, and with one more disgusted look thrown their way, decides to talk to some of their other cousins and join in the family games.

Manuel, because he’s an asshole, blows him a kiss as he walks off.

Marcel saunters up to the table after the final round of ‘Pin the carrot on the snowman’ has been played and he’s obviously tipsy.

“So, how are my two favourite fake lovebirds going?” he asks with a leer and some truly awful winking.

Kevin rolls his eyes. “Seriously? Obvious much?”

“What? I’m just asking.”

“You’re not just doing anything except being a pain in the ass.”

“How could you say that? I thought I was your favourite cousin? After everything I do for you, you’d think you’d show me more love. You’re so mean to me. Manu, tell your boyfriend to stop being mean to me.”

It’s Manuel’s turn to roll his eyes, especially because Marcel actually airquoted the word ‘boyfriend’ with even more winking. “Stop being mean to your cousin,” Manuel dutifully deadpans to Kevin.

“Sure thing muffin,” Kevin replies in the same tone. “Anything for you.”

Manuel kisses Kevin on the temple without changing facial expression and Marcel lets out a disgusted sound.

“Okay you two can stop now, Jesus.”

“Ready to admit you’re wrong?” Kevin asks.

Marcel rolls his eyes. “Whatever; God you two were disgusting. The aunts have been doing nothing but gushing over you for the past hour. It was sickening. Especially because they’ve started asking _me_ how come I didn’t bring my own date.”

“I actually highly recommend bringing one next time,” Kevin says. “This is the first time in years they haven’t pestered me for more than a minute; it’s really refreshing.”

Marcel grunts in agreement. “How long are you planning on staying? I don’t wanna hang around for much longer after you go since it’ll give them a chance to drill me about Manu without having to pretend to be polite about it.”

“I’m actually heading off in about ten; I still gotta finish something off for work and pack.”

“Ugh okay; does that mean you’re gonna leave too, Manu?”

“Yeah, I haven’t packed either,” Manuel nods. “And I still have dinner with my mom tomorrow so I need to get it done tonight.”

“Oh, you’re going on holidays too? Where?”

“Spain.”

Marcel blinks. “Spain. Like, Kevin is going to Spain?”

“Yeah.”

“Wait. Are you two going on holidays at the same time.”

“Yeah.”

“Okay.” Marcel squints at Manuel, then at his cousin. He blinks a few more times, then asks, “Are you two going together?”

“Duh,” Kevin shrugs, “you didn’t think I was going to Spain by myself, did you?”

“Well, if you put it _that_ way, no?” Marcel shakes his head, then squints at them some more. “Let me get this straight. Heh straight. Anyways. So. You’re going on holidays. Together?”

“Yes.”

“With no-one else?”

“Yes.”

“Just the two of you? On holiday. For a week. Together?”

“Which part of ‘yes, together’ don’t you understand?” Manuel asks, sounding exasperated.

Marcel shakes his head again. “But why?”

“What do you think?” Kevin asks with an exaggerated eyeroll.

Marcel stares and blinks at them for a full minute, before his eyes widen comically. “No _way_. No. Nonononono! You can’t _possibly_ be.”

Kevin and Manuel just blink back at him.

Marcel wrinkles his nose and gives them both a disgusted look. “You’re together, aren’t you? As in together-together? Like, really dating, not just faking it for Mats’ bet.”

Manuel nods casually. “For about 5 months now.”

“I can’t believe you managed to hide it from us all this time!” Marcel rounds on his cousin, looking betrayed. “What happened to sharing everything?”

“I’m pretty sure we never had a rule like that,” Kevin says, “and even if we did, relationships are private and not just something I’m gonna be shouting to everyone about. Especially not to this lot; they don’t know how to mind their own business.”

“Still!” Marcel pouts, “what was the point of going along with the bet? Mats and Bene obviously don’t know or else they wouldn’t have dared you to fake date.”

“I told you I wasn’t gonna let them win,” Manuel shrugs.

“And yeah, you’re the first person we told,” Kevin adds.

“Really?” Marcel looks somewhat pleased. “No-one else knows?”

“We were planning on telling everyone this Christmas anyway, but then Mats and the stupid dare happened.” Manuel explains.

“We should have made Mats pay us,” Kevin sighs. “We could have used the money to get a hotel transfer instead of having to catch the bus from the airport.”

“Next time,” Manuel nods in agreement.

“What do you mean next time?” Marcel asks. “You’re planning on doing this again, aren’t you? Just to make some cash out of it.”

“Duh,” they reply at the same time.

Marcel throws his hands up in the air. “You know what? Good luck with that. You two deserve each other. I’m outta here.”

Manuel, because he’s an asshole, blows him a kiss as he walks off.


	6. Simple Christmas joys (Schweinski)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Christmas is a time for family, love and simple Christmas delights.
> 
>  
> 
> **4\. Pure Christmas fluff involving decorating the house, baking cookies, buying presents together and horrible Christmas sweaters**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pair: Bastian Schweinsteiger/Lukas Podolski
> 
> Tags: Christmas fluff, happy extended families

“DAD!” Louis screams when Lukas opens the door, jumping into his dad’s arms and going for kisses.

Lukas holds onto his little boy for more than a quick hug, always so grateful for this gift. “Heya buddy, I’ve missed you; I thought you were going to be here yesterday.”

“Gosh this snow,” Monika complains, “such a nightmare.”

Lukas puts Louis down, tells him that Julian and the Klose twins are inside so he can say hi to his friends, then takes the suitcases out of Monika’s hand.

“You should have called me,” he chides her gently. “I told you it would be hard to get a taxi from the airport.”

Monika rolls her eyes but gives Lukas a kiss on the cheek. “And I told you we’d be fine. We’re only a day late.”

Lukas grunts in agreement, kisses her on the cheek as well and ushers her in. “I’ll take these to your rooms, you can go say hi to Claudia and Sylwia.”

“Oh they’re here already,” Monika says in delight. “Per and Ulrike?”

“On the way; they got caught in the snow too.”

“It’ll be good to catch up with the ladies. You sure you’re okay with all those?”

“Of course,” Lukas nods. He pulls her to him though for a quick but firm hug before letting her go again. “I’m glad you’re here, Moni.”

Monika pats him on the cheek. “You know I love spending time with you and Basti, Lukas; of course I was going to come along. Besides, do you think Louis would let me hear the end of it if he found out Basti was here for Christmas and he didn’t get to see him?”

“Sometimes I think our son loves Basti more than he loves me,” Lukas shakes his head.

“You either love your step dad or hate them, it seems, and I think I’m just grateful that Louis loves him so much.”

Lukas nods, swallowing the lump in his throat. Some people might think that still being friends with your ex and mother of your child was weird, but Lukas didn’t care because even if they weren’t together anymore, Monika was always going to be one of the most important people in his life and having her with him for Christmas was always a good thing. She’d been so supportive in the months leading up to him and Bastian finally getting their act together after Brazil, and he’s never not going to be completely grateful to her - not only for helping him raise a beautiful son, but for accepting Bastian into their family as well.

And Monika knows this, because she still knows him much too well, and she gives him another kiss on the cheek. “Okay enough of that sappiness, save it for later. You have glüwein, I hope?”

“Of course I do!” Lukas laughs. “With all the cinnamon and cloves just how you like it.”

“You’re too good to me,” she says as she heads to the living room and Lukas drags the suitcases towards the bedrooms.

After dinner when everyone’s had enough to eat and the cookies and gingerbreads are out and Frozen is playing in the background (Philipp’s choice - probably revenge for the “I[’m not short I’m just a tall elf](https://www.eight8tees.com/mkt/just-a-tall-elf-christmas-ugly-sweater)” ugly sweater that Per got for him), Lukas sits on the floor as he and Monika distribute the presents for the kids.

Louis yells in delight when he opens up his present to see the Chicago Cubs shirt and cap, and jumps over his parents to crash tackle Bastian with a hug.

“I think I know why Basti is the favourite parent,” Lukas whispers to Monika. “It’s all about the bribes.”

“Louis loved Basti even when we were together; maybe you should just accept that he’s lovable.” She gives him a teasing grin. “Besides, you shouldn’t be surprised, like father like son, after all.”

Lukas blushes, sticking his tongue out at her instead of replying.

Later, when it’s late enough that their guests have to say goodnight and head home, Lukas and his friends are gathered in the kitchen while the ladies are supervising the gift gathering and packing up.

“It’s good that you guys could make it,” Philipp is saying to Per. “We weren’t sure you’d get here in time with all the cancelled flights.”

“The perk of being a famous footballer and flying business class,” Per says wryly, “is that people go out of their way to help you.”

“Well we’re glad you could make it,” Miro says. “The twins have been looking forward to seeing their friends for so long, they would’ve been disappointed if you didn’t come.”

“They’re like a boy band,” Lukas snickers, remembering earlier when the boys were all trying to sing and dance to some of the latest top 40 songs that none of them (with the possible exception of Noah and Luan) could actually understand the lyrics of. “Oskar dabbing was too cute.”

“He’s at the “sponge” age,” Per sighs. “He copies everything.”

“It’s not too bad,” Miro sympathises. “Luan and Noah sang “I kissed a girl” for about a week after hearing it on the radio. They thought the song was about their mom.”

“Well technically it could be,” Bastian laughs. “They were what, three at the time? At that age their mom is the only girl they’d be kissing.”

“Until they get to kindergarten,” Lukas grins. “Then they’ll be kissing a new one every week.”

Philipp rolls his eyes at that. “I don’t know what you were like at six, Poldi, but I hope for his sake Louis didn’t take after you.”

“Hey, I was a gentleman at six!” Lukas protests. “None of my kindergarten girlfriends had bad feelings after we broke up.”

“How do you even remember?” Per laughs. “You were _six._ ”

“You doubt me?” Lukas grins. “I’m still friends with Moni, remember?””

“Monika is an angel who was too good for you,” Bastian says. “I honestly don’t know why she married you in the first place.”

If possible, Lukas’ grin gets bigger. “And what does it say about you that you’re with me now?”

Bastian opens his mouth, frowns, then closes it quickly. “Damn,” he concedes, making the others laugh.

“Well, we better get going,” Philipp says. “Julian is gonna be over-tired and grumpy as hell if we don’t leave now.”

When everyone has left and the kitchen is relatively clean and Monika and Louis are both in bed, Lukas brings Bastian a mug of the last of their glüwein and they snuggle on the couch, warm in their ugly sweaters and the fireplace still going.

“That was good having the others here,” Lukas murmurs, his head on Bastian’s shoulder. “It’s so rare to have everyone together at the same time.”

“Harder now with nearly all of us living in different countries,” Bastian agrees.

“At least it’s only for a few more years. We’ll all be retired from club football soon and we’re all probably gonna end up back here.”

“But in the meantime, this isn’t so bad; I get you for the holidays at least.”

Lukas looks up at Bastian then, that familiar warmth of joy and everything being _so right_ suffusing through him at the soft look on his love’s face. “Not just for holidays,” he corrects Bastian lightly. “You always have me, even when we’re not in the same country.”

“And it makes the wait worth it,” Bastian agrees, bending down to touch their lips lightly.


	7. I know him so well (Lars B/Jonas H)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jonas would know his love anywhere
> 
> **4\. Pure Christmas fluff involving decorating the house, baking cookies, buying presents together and horrible Christmas sweaters**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For eruditemonk
> 
> Pair: Lars Bender/Jonas Hector
> 
> Tags: Christmas fluff, twin shenanigans

Jonas has just finished putting up the last bauble on the Christmas tree when he feels hands cover his eyes from behind. Jonas stiffens for a micro second, then asks, “Can I help you?”

“That any way to speak to the love of your life?”

“Nice try,” he says, pulling the fingers away from his eyes and turning to see a familiar face smiling back at him. “What, you think after all this time I can’t tell the difference between you and your brother?”

To his credit, Sven just laughs good-naturedly. “Damn. To be fair, most people can’t, you know.”

“Are you telling me your wife can’t tell you and Lars apart? Dude, that’s worrying.”

“Of course she can.”

“Exactly my point,” Jonas nods, packing away the unused decorations into the boxes to be put back into storage. “Once you get used to waking up to someone drooling into their pillows, there’s no way you’ll mix them up with anyone else, even their identical twin.”

“Lars still does that? That’s gross, man.”

“Why are you here, again?”

Sven shrugs. “Just dropped off the ham for later and some of the presents. We’ve got a pretty packed car and I didn’t want to do two trips later.”

“Don’t forget the sweaters.”

“You and your sweaters,” Sven grumps.

“It’s tradition, Sven.”

“Yes, yes, I know. Don’t worry, we’ll be wearing them.”

“Good. An ugly sweater competition isn’t a competition unless you’re actually wearing sweaters.”

Three hours later Jonas has just put together the gingerbread house when his eyes are covered again. This time, he tips his face back sightly and smiles into the kiss pressed on the corner of his mouth.

“How’s the bar looking?” Jonas asks when Lars uncovers his eyes.

Lars grimaces. “That fountain for the punch was harder to put together than I thought.”

“But it’s working?”

“Yeah.”

Jonas gives Lars a soft lingering kiss. “You’re a star.”

“And you’re a sap,” Lars chuckles, although he does wrap an arm loosely around Jonas’ waist. “But since it’s Christmas I guess you’re allowed to be.”

“Isn’t the season for sappiness supposed to be Valentines?”

“Why can’t it be Christmas as well? I mean, mistletoe is there for a reason.”

“The reason for mistletoe is so that couples can make out without anyone telling them to stop with the PDA.”

“Mmm hmmm. How long before everyone arrives again?”

“A couple of hours?”

“How’s about you and me indulge in some _private_ displays of affection before we join in with the sanctioned PDA?”

“That’s a great idea. I knew I married you for a reason.”

Lars doesn’t bother responding to that, just pulls them closer together and leans in for another kiss.


	8. So easy it’s real (Steno)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With some people, you just don't have to try so hard. 
> 
>  
> 
> **7\. The “Fake dating/bringing someone home for the holidays to get the family off their backs” trope**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For: anon & [eruditemonk](http://archiveofourown.org/users/agent_declan/pseuds/eruditemonk)
> 
> Pair: Marc-André ter Stegen/Bernd Leno
> 
> Tags: pretend relationship

When Bernd wakes up, it takes him a while to remember why he feels warmer than usual despite having kicked off most of his blankets. He cracks an eye open to make sure that yep, that’s Marc (with a C, not a K)  still in bed with him, face half-buried in his pillows, and yeah last night really did happen. Bernd wasn’t normally the type to have one night stands, but he’d been stressed as hell yesterday and he wasn’t allowed to drink his problem away (because if he showed up hungover at the extended family Christmas party tonight, his mother would strangle him) so he’d indulged in flirting as a distraction instead. And obviously the flirting had led to taking Marc (with a C, not a K) home with him to an admittedly good night. But. That was last night and today was a new day and even if waking up to the sight of an extremely cute bedmate was a nice start to the morning, he still had the problem of tonight that he didn’t have a solution for.

Bernd puts his pillow over his head and tries not to scream; he didn’t want to wake up Marc because the poor guy didn’t need to listen to Bernd having a panic attack over coming to another family gathering alone and having to deal with all the intrusive questions. He’s actually starting to wonder whether he could beg Julian to come with him as his fake boyfriend even for just a couple of hours, when he feels the edge of his pillow lift from his face.

“Whatever it is, I’m sure it’s not that bad,” Marc says, voice gravelly from sleep.

Bernd huffs out a small laugh and puts the pillow back under his head. “If you only knew.”

“Care to share?”

“Family party with meddling family members. Lots of them. Who I only ever see once a year but still manage to act like they’re close enough to keep asking annoying questions.”

Marc winces. “Ugh, one of those. So what are they bugging you about? Work, partner or life choices in general?”

“The partner one,” Bernd sighs. “Why is it so hard to believe that being employed and in your mid-twenties doesn’t necessarily mean you want to find someone and settle down already?”

“Different generation so different mindset, I guess.” Marc rolls over onto his side and Bernd’s reminded of just how pretty he thought Marc looked last night at the club; he looks even better in daylight despite having a tragic case of bed-hair. “So you got a plan? Or is that what you were huffing and puffing about?”

“I was thinking of asking one of my friends to come with me and fake it,” Bernd admits.

“That’s not a bad plan. Why haven’t you?”

“It’s a bit late notice; the party’s tonight and he’s flying back to Bremen for Christmas tonight.”

“And there’s no-one else?”

“Everyone’s either busy tonight or a friend that my family knows about so wouldn’t work anyway.”

Marc just nods and watches him with a slight frown on his face. Bernd is about to hop out of bed and take a shower - and give time for Marc to head home because one night stands weren’t supposed last for more than one night and the Marc probably had his own Christmas stuff to do - when Marc says, “You want me to come along?”

The question takes Bernd completely by surprise. “Are you for real?”

“Why not?” Marc shrugs. “I don’t have anything on tonight, and it’s only for a couple of hours, right? I can always say I have my own thing on so I have to leave early if it gets too much; but that should be enough to get them off your back, yeah?”

Bernd frowns at Marc for a few seconds trying to come up with a reason why this is a bad idea. But aside from the fact that they don’t know each other (hey, there wasn’t a lot of deep and meaningful conversations happening last night, okay? They both had other things they preferred to be doing than talking) Bernd was getting desperate, and Marc was right, it was only for a couple of hours and if Marc was _willing…_

“Let’s talk it over at breakfast,” he suggests. “I’m just gonna take a shower; you’re welcome to one too if you want after I’m done.”

“You want company? To save time?”

Bernd pauses in the act of picking up his boxers from the floor and slowly turns towards the bed; Marc is sitting up now too, lips quirking upwards and his eyebrows are lifted up in question. Bernd doesn’t bother with putting the underwear back on and walks naked to his bathroom, grinning to himself when he hears the comforters thrown back quickly.

By the time they get to his aunt’s house, Bernd is calmer than he thought he would be, which probably had something to do with the fact that Marc had taken his hand as soon as they start walking up to the driveway; Bernd gives Marc a grateful smile. He’s still in some shock on how easy the day had been, how natural it felt discussing their fake dating history over breakfast then going to the mall and doing last minute shopping together like an actual couple would; even just walking around city holding hands (for practice, okay?) with someone who he’d met less than 24 hours ago didn’t even seem strange. But he’s a little bit nervous, because even if they managed to pull it off, he still had to explain to his family the reason for Marc’s existence; even though she was normally sympathetic towards him, Bernd’s pretty sure his mom is going to be severely disappointed that he’s desperate enough to lie to his entire family just to get them off his back. They’d agreed during their planning that they wouldn’t admit how they actually know each other (that was so not going to go down well) even if they both thought that it would a good idea to be honest with Bernd’s family at least.

Bernd’s not sure if he should be surprised or not that it takes Marc about 2 minutes to charm his mom; in the end _she_ ended up thanking Marc for being so helpful and agreeing to fake it with Bernd and Bernd’s honestly terrified at just how much his mom likes his fake boyfriend.

“I think she’s hoping the two of you are gonna end up real,” Daniel says to him quietly. “She practically invited him over for Christmas next year already.”

Bernd grimaces, trying not to blush at how he could actually see this going. Ugh, why did Marc have to be so likable?

“She probably just feels sorry for me,” he mutters in response.

“Nah, you could tell if she didn’t like him.” Daniel gives him a quizzical look. “Are you sure you’re both faking it? Because I’ve seen you with your exes and how you’re acting now isn’t much different to how you are with Marc.”

This time Bernd can actually feel his face heat up. “It’s complicated,” he shrugs.

“You know what? Sometimes it doesn’t have to be.”

Bernd doesn’t really have much to say to that.

In the end, Marc only does stay for a few hours before they make their excuses and leave together. Bernd offers to take Marc wherever he wants to go - whether home or for a couple of drinks as thank you - and almost cheers when Marc chooses the drinks option.

It’s quite a bit later that night when Bernd’s just about to drop into blissful sleep when a warm arm wraps around his waist and he hears a soft “You wanna come with me to my family’s lunch tomorrow?”

Bernd grins sleepily into his pillow. “Yeah, why not?”


	9. Baking cookies is an art form (Somki)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **4\. Pure Christmas fluff involving decorating the house, baking cookies, buying presents together and horrible Christmas sweaters**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For: bananasplit86
> 
> Pair: Yann Sommer/Roman Bürki
> 
> Tags: domestic fluff

“You hate them.”

It’s not even a question.

“No, no,” Yann disagrees quickly. “Not hate, per se, just… not love.”

Roman gives him an unimpressed look. “You spat it out and started choking; I think it’s pretty clear they’re a disaster.”

Yann winces, side-eyeing his boyfriend’s attempt at baking. “The recipe could use some improvements,” he concedes reluctantly.

“I followed the recipe from the book you gave me, Yann, the one your oma told you to use; I’m pretty sure the recipe’s fine,” Roman deadpans.

Yann winces again. “Baking is an art form and cookies take practice?” he asks tentatively.

Roman glares at him for a few more seconds and Yann is trying so hard to find a way to make it sound like those horribly dry and tasteless sorry excuses for cookies weren’t that bad, when Roman starts guffawing.

“Oh my God you should have seen your face!” Roman hiccups and giggles at the same time. “I swear I thought you were going to start shoving more in your mouth ‘coz you felt sorry for me!”

Yann wants to feel annoyed, but he’s more relieved than anything. “You’re awful,” he says mock grumpily. “What did you do to them? Why are they so dry?”

“They’re really bad, aren’t they?” Roman grins, wrapping an arm around Yann’s waist and kissing him quickly. “And I have absolutely no idea why it turned out like that - I followed the recipe.”

“Yeah?” Yann asks just a tad skeptical, because never before has he tasted cookies like that.

Roman picks up the book and starts pointing out ingredients. “Yup. See? Flour, egg, butter, brown sugar, baking po-” He stops abruptly, then, “Heh. I think I figured out where it went wrong. I used baking soda instead of baking powder.”

“Well that will definitely do it,” Yann agrees slowly. “At least we know now; do we have time to make another batch? I’m sure we have baking powder too.”

Roman looks at the clock. “Nah, they should be arriving any minute now. But that’s okay, Alexia said she was bringing cookies as well. And we have gingerbread! Store bought, but at least we have something!”

Yann looks at their Christmas tree which has a dozen or so gingerbread treats hanging off them. “They happen to taste awesome and cost a small fortune,” Yann says.

Roman grins at him, then proceeds to take off his apron. “Don’t worry, I bought extra; should be eating them well into the New Year if we ration them.

“I like how you think,” Yann grins back, reaching out to flick the horns of the reindeer on Roman’s sweater. “That thing is still as ugly as when you first bought it.”

“Says the guy who’s wearing a vest that shows off his beer-belly!” Roman counters, poking at Yann’s own ugly sweater. “Besides, it’s adorable, not ugly!”

“Adorkable, you mean?”

“You’re just jealous because my sweater’s better than yours.”

“At least I don’t have to worry about bending over and getting food all over my front.”

Roman opens and shuts his mouth quickly, probably realising Yann’s right. “Damn. That’s true. Do you think I should change?”

“Nah,” Yann shakes his head and pulls Roman to him, squishing the reindeer between them. “You do look adorably,” Yann murmurs, brushing his lips fleetingly against Roman’s.

Roman pecks him quickly, then pulls back so they can see eye-to-eye. “You’re sure? You’re not just saying that? I can still change.”

“You’re perfect,” Yann disagrees, kissing him again, firmer this time.

They start making out against the kitchen counter, and it probably would have become heated very quickly if the doorbell didn’t ring a minute later. Roman pulls back with a bruising kiss, then heads into the hallway, followed closely by Yann. They stop at the door.

“Ready?” Roman asks quietly.

Yann gives him one last quick kiss. “As long as I’m with you, always.”


	10. Wish upon a mistletoe (Trappler)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kevin's wish is granted... sorta.
> 
> **3\. The “Accidentally caught under the mistletoe” trope**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pair: Kevin Trapp/Julian Draxler
> 
> Tags: meddling teammates, so much pining, oblivious idiots

“We need your help.”

Kevin is terrified. He’s not normally scared of his teammates, but right now Marc-André and Bernd had this look on their facse that could mean one of two things: he was either going to get Kevin to do something really stupid that will more than likely get him kicked off the team, or they needed Kevin to help them dispose of a body. It said a lot about his life that he was pretty sure it was option 1 and that one was the one he was afraid of most.

“Now?” he asks warily.

Bernd huffs at him. “Yes, now.”

“For?” He wasn’t going to agree that quickly, because even if all they were doing was dumping a body, he still wanted to make sure they actually had a plan and they weren’t just going to try shoving their victim into a commercial bin like some type of amateurs (Jesus, why the hell was he thinking about the proper method of getting rid of criminal evidence??)

“We need to get more gear,” Marc says like it should be obvious.

More gear? For what? Marc was already carrying a box full of footballs, cones and gloves, and Bernd has his arms full of netting (not in a bag, so it’s slipping through his arms and what the hell was up with that??). Kevin was also pretty sure that they hadn’t been assigned any extra training so he had no idea what his fellow keepers were actually up to (he still hadn’t ruled out option number 2 because that was also still better than option number 1).

“Now?” he asks again, just to be sure.

Marc and Bernd give each other exasperated sighs and eyerolls.

“Can you just come already?” Marc demands.

Kevin decides to just go with it and follows them towards their allocated training rooms; he figures he could probably outrun them since he’s not got his arms full of training gear just in case everything goes to shit. He relaxes a tiny bit when they reach the storage room and Leon is standing at the door with his hands full of vests and saying, “no the other one”, because okay this little errand might actually be legitimate after all. Leon steps aside to give him room to look for whatever the hell it was that Bernd and Marc needed, when he sees Julian Draxler in there, rummaging amongst the containers of equipment.

“Whatcha looking for?” Kevin asks his club teammate.

“Oh hey,” Julian says, giving him a blinding but confused smile. “Exercise bands? Seriously Leon, they’re not in this box - are you sure Ben said the grey ones?”

Kevin looks back to the doorway the same time that Julian does; for some reason, Leon, Marc and Bernd are standing there with their arms empty, all the gear they were holding earlier now stacked next to the door.

“Guys, what’s going on?” Kevin asks warily, the suspicion coming back in full force (good God he actually was going to get roped into burying a body, wasn’t he?)

“Would you look at that,” Leon says with such fake innocence that Kevin feels his body stiffen with dread. “Looks like you two are standing under mistletoe.”

_Dear Lord_ , Kevin thinks, slowly looking up. He swallows when he realises that the midfielder is right. Please no.  _Nonononono_.

“Aw shucks,” Bernd deadpans, “guess that means you guys have to kiss.”

Looks like Kevin was going to have to dispose of two bodies today after all, because he was so going to  _kill_  his fellow goalkeepers after this little stunt.

“What the hell is that doing there?” Julian demands next to him.

“Does it matter?” a new voice asks, and Kevin just about dies when he sees Mats there, with Julian Brandt and Joshua right behind him. “It’s there, you’re standing under it, you have to kiss.”

“Oh hell no,” Kevin mutters, loud enough for his teammates to hear him.

“What’s the problem, Kev?” Marc-Andre says in his version of fake innocence. “It’s just a kiss. We’ve all had to do it before, you got caught with Nik under one the other day.”

That’s true, Kevin thinks, but that was Niklas and this is Julian and there was no way in hell he was going to get away with not blushing at having to kiss his crush. Before he can come up with a witty response, though, Julian growls under his breath.

“Leon,” Julian says in a deceptively mild tone, “did you do this on purpose?”

“Sorry,” Leon nods, not even remotely sorry, “but I couldn’t take the pining anymore.”

This makes Kevin stare at Leon in disbelief, because did the Schalke midfielder just expose Kevin’s obviously-not-even-remotely-hidden crush on Julian? No. Nonononono. Firstly, how did Leon even know?? And secondly, what did Kevin do to the younger man that he would make such a dick move like that, announcing it to everyone? His face is flaming and he’s desperately wishing for some way to get out of this mortifying situation (the ground opening up or the fire alarm to start blaring or even Jogi walking past and yelling at them - just anything, really) just so he didn’t have to be around when Julian inevitably realised that Kevin’s feelings for him weren’t exactly platonic. If he’d been panicking less he’d be absolutely furious at Leon (and the other five there watching them expectantly) for outting him like this, but right now his priority is to get the fuck out of here.

He’s about to just push his way past his asshole teammates and run, when Julian gasps “Leon you fucking traitor.”

For the second time in less than two minutes, Kevin freezes in shock, then slowly turns towards his club teammate. Julian is blushing and gaping angrily at Leon, and no way.  _No way_. There’s seriously no way that Leon could have been talking about Julian and not Kevin, but the way the beautiful forward is glaring daggers at his former teammate and refusing to look at Kevin makes Kevin - against all odds - hope.

“Well, can you two get on with it?” Mats asks.

Kevin swings his attention back to the centre back having actually forgotten about his other teammates there. “What?”

“The kiss,” Mats explains tetchily. “You didn’t think we were gonna let you get away without kissing, did you?”

Shit, Kevin thinks, because there was that too.

“Leon,” Julian growls lowly. “Don’t.”

“I told you I was tired of the pining,” Leon replies, ignoring Julian’s warning. Kevin startles when the lanky midfielder turns to him. “You two need to sort your shit out and we’re not leaving until you start talking, so for the love of everything Christmas, just kiss already. You both know you want to.”

Yes, Kevin would like nothing more than to kiss his gorgeous teammate (not like he hasn’t been fantasising about it for months now, but you know) but from the look on Julian’s face, the feeling isn’t mutual. That moment of hope dies a very quick but not unexpected death. Kevin pushes down the hurt and squares his shoulders. Even if Leon is actually horribly wrong and now Julian knows about Kevin’s rather unrequited feelings, he wasn’t going to embarrass himself some more in front of all these people; he needed to salvage whatever he could of his friendship with Julian or else club football was going to be torturous when they got to back to Paris.

“Can you leave us alone?” he asks his teammates. “None of you need to be here for this.”

To his relief, they all file out without another word. Kevin waits until the door clicks shut before slowly, very slowly turning to Julian. It hurts like crazy but he’s not surprised that Julian is still staring at the spot that Leon was just standing in.

“I’m sorry Jule,” Kevin says quietly, regret lacing his voice. “I’m so sorry; I never wanted that to happen.”

His apology makes Julian turn to him in surprise. “Sorry? About what?”

Kevin waves his hand vaguely. “This. What Leon and the others said. I- I know it’s not something you want to hear, and I promise, I don’t expect anything from you. I just, I can’t stop how I feel and I’m sorry if now you’re uncomfortable but I swear to you that I didn’t know Leon was going to do that - I don’t even know how he knows I was being so careful not to be obvious - and I promise if I’d known I would-”

“What are you talking about?” Julian interrupts him, confused. “Leon was talking about  _me_ ;  _my_  feelings,  _me_  pining. Why would you think…”

For a few confused-filled moments they stare at each other, until realisation slowly seeps into Kevin’s brain and hope tries to push up again. He does his best to squash it because he could still be wrong, but Julian’s expression is flitting from confusion to hope to want and oh God, maybe Leon and the others were right after all. Kevin swallows the lump in his throat and looks upwards as he tries to gather his courage; he takes it as a sign when he spots the mistletoe that his teammates had stuck on the ceiling when they planned this. He almost laughs.

“I think,” Kevin says slowly, eyes drinking in Julian’s hope-filled face, “Leon and the others somehow figured out just how much I want to kiss you if given the chance and because I was apparently pining so obviously, they set this up for me.”

Julian’s lips slowly start twitching until he’s grinning, practically blinding Kevin with that gorgeous smile. “I think you got it the other way around, I’m pretty sure they were talking about me.”

Kevin gives in and laughs. “At this point I don’t even care who they were talking about just as long as I get my wish.”

“Well you know I’m all about granting Christmas wishes.”

“Yeah?”

“ _Yeah!_ ”


	11. Road trip (Steno)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bernd goes on a reluctant roadtrip, but in the end, is extremely glad he did.
> 
> **2\. “We’re driving home for Christmas and we’ve decided to carpool to save money even though we hate each other because (*insert reason here*) but now we’re stuck in the car for 10 hours and oh God why did I think this was a good idea?!?”**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For: yyydelilah and eruditemonk 
> 
> Pair: Marc-André ter Stegen/Bernd Leno
> 
> Tags: Alternate universe - non-football, road trip, no wild-life was injured in this story

It’s not that Bernd hated Marc-André, Bernd just didn’t like him much. Of all the other Germans that he’d met since moving to Sydney on a working holiday visa, Marc was the only one he didn’t get along with. He found Marc snobby, opinionated, and found it really annoying that Marc never hesitated to remind everyone that he was being sponsored to study in Australia by his Michelin-rated work back in Germany. Bernd thought he was showy, and tended to avoid Marc whenever their mutual friends had one of their many catch-ups. Which is why he almost said no when Nico and Aubrey asked him to drive their car down to Melbourne after Christmas since they were flying back and couldn’t drive it anymore. It’s not that he minded the 10 hour drive, and Nico and Aubrey were his closest friends so yeah, visiting them in Melbourne would be fun - but then Nico had mentioned that Marc was needing a lift to Melbourne as well since he was thinking of joining a tour from there and would appreciate tagging along. Bernd knew it was going to be awful, but he’d said yes anyway because he would sacrifice 10 hours for his friends.

It really is as bad as he thought it would be. By hour number 2, Bernd didn’t care anymore that neither he nor his reluctant passenger had barely said anything to each other aside from the “hey, you ready to go?” that Bernd had asked Marc when Marc had jumped into his car that morning. They’d tried for a grand total of 10 minutes to have conversation, but it was obvious pretty quickly that they were better off just not talking, so he’s happy when they see a petrol station just so he can put gas in the car and to take a break from the awkward silence. He’s relieved when Marc goes to the KFC and offers to buy their unhealthy brunch, but he’s wondering if it would be worse or better to eat while they continue the drive. He decides to just drive on since he didn’t think eating in a restaurant with Marc would be any less awkward than in the car.

Marc-André hands him his burger and sets his cola in the cup holder between them, but aside from mentioning he also bought nuggets with their meal deals, they spend the next 20 minutes eating in silence. It only takes that long for Bernd to finish his food because he’s eating and driving (on cruise control, but he still needs one hand for it!) and is taking his sweet time; he needs to fill up the long minutes somehow. He should have eaten slower, because by the time they hit the 4.5 hour mark, Bernd is ready to crawl out of his skin. When he sees the rest stop, he swings in, mumbling “need to pee” when Marc looks at him quizzically.

They hop out and Bernd stretches a little, taking in the giant truck and other group of travellers having a picnic. Thankfully, the toilets are surprisingly really clean considering they’re in the middle of what’s essentially bushland. Bernd’s only just closing the stall door behind him when he hears a godawful scream; he quickly rushes back out.

There’s a crashing noise, some more squeaking, then the door to the other stall next to him gets violently pulled open; Marc tumbles out with a horrified look on his face and practically leaps into Bernd’s arms. Bernd staggers back a step and nearly drops him.

“What the hell, Marc?” Bernd demands, trying to get Marc to let go.

Marc makes a strangled noise, then seems to finally realise that he’s trying to climb Bernd like a tree, and jumps away, muttering “holy fucking shit!” under his breath.

Bernd glares at Marc, then notices how distressed the other guy still looks and begrudgingly asks, “Are you alright?”

Marc-André blinks at him for a few seconds, takes a couple of deep breaths, then points at the toilet with a shaking hand.

Bernd frowns, then huffs and peers into the stall. A second later, he gives out the most high-pitched scream he has ever given since he hit puberty, jumps backwards as fast as he can and somehow ends up in Marc’s arms, not unlike earlier but now in reverse. For a few seconds he can’t breath, can’t think, can’t imagine that there is anything scarier than the largest, blackest, hairiest motherfucking  _spider_  he has ever seen in his life casually sitting in a web inside a toilet bowl.

“It’s there, right?” Marc-André asks in a small voice, still clinging tight. “There really is a mutant spider in there? I didn’t imagine it?”

Bernd nods jerkily. “Jesus Christ I didn’t think those things could get that big,” he whispers back. “Is that normal?”

“Apparently? But I really don’t wanna pee here, anymore. I’ll wait until the next petrol station.”

“God, yes!” Bernd agrees quickly.

He’d heard about Australian spiders, of course - mostly from his friends who wanted to scare the daylights out of him - but he’d spent the past year in a new apartment complex that’s nowhere near bushland, so this is the first time he’s ever seen one large than the harmless house spiders (weirdly called Daddy Long Legs) before. This spider though,  _this_  one looks like it could jump on your face and suck your eyeballs out of your head before you even realised what was happening, and he did not want to stick around to see what sort of real damage it could do.

They disentangle themselves from each other then hurry towards the car, both stopping before climbing in and staring wild-eyed at each other. It’s Marc who cracks first.

“Oh my  _God!_  I almost  _died!_ ” Marc gasps, then starts laughing hysterically.

Bernd blinks at him, then loses it as well. “Let’s get out of here before that thing decides to come after us.”

It’s like a spell is broken as they now laugh about scary Australian spiders, and the last half of the drive is easier and seems to go by faster. They start exchanging stories about both living in Australia and back home, and Bernd can see that he’d been mistaken about Marc all along. Yes Marc was a bit brash and forward with his opinions and unashamedly proud of his job, but Bernd had to admit that Marc had every right to be - it’s not everyday that an exclusive Michelin restaurant agreed to send you overseas for a couple of years and save your job for you, after all. By the time they arrive at the train station Marc’s going to take into the city, Bernd’s actually kinda sad that they’re going their separate ways now, because Marc-André is funny and wicked smart and he honestly hasn’t found it this easy to talk to anyone since he arrived who wasn’t Nico or Aubrey.

“Are you sure you don’t want me to drop you off?” Bernd asks when Marc’s got his luggage out of the boot and saying his goodbyes.

“No it’s fine; it’s out of your way and your friends are expecting you for dinner. But thanks for the ride; I really do appreciate it.”

Bernd nods almost regretfully. “Well, um, I guess this is it. Have fun hiking in Tasmania.”

Marc-André squints at him a little, huffs softly, then takes his phone out of his pocket. “Hey, give me your number; maybe we can have drinks when we’re both back in Sydney.”

Bernd tries not to snatch at the phone too eagerly, and makes sure he hits the call button once he’s programmed his number in before handing it back just so he has Marc’s number as well.

“Thanks again,” Marc says, then throws his backpack over his shoulder and heads towards the train station entrance.

Two days later Bernd gets a text, and his stomach flipflops when he sees who it’s from.

> _**Marc** : Hey Bernd, it’s Marc. You gave me a lift to Melbourne the other day? H _ow you going?__
> 
> _**Bernd** : I know who you are dude lol all good. Still trying to recover from all the food. How’s Tasmania?_
> 
> _**Marc** : I didn’t go :( they cancelled the one I wanted because of some emergency and all the rest were booked out._
> 
> _**Bernd** : Oh man, that sucks. So what’s your plan now?_
> 
> _**Marc** : Gonna stick around until New Year anyways. Met some people at the hostel. Same same backpacking things. I’m bored…_

He doesn’t even think about doing it, but once Bernd sends his response, he immediately wants to take it back. 

> _**Bernd** : Me too. Wanna meet up?_

He’s fidgeting nervously with his phone until he sees the reply, and he almost laughs with relief when he reads it.

> _**Marc** : Yes! Tell me when, I’m free all the time_

They meet up that evening for drinks at a bar along the Southbank, and Bernd ends up having to take an über back to Nico’s because they chat until the early hours of the morning. They somehow spend the next three days together exploring the different suburbs of Melbourne and even going on a day trip to Mornington. Aubrey rather cheekily - with  _way_  too much winking - tells him to invite Marc to their New Year barbecue if he hadn’t already; Bernd does, but not before rolling his eyes at her and repeatedly saying “it’s not like that!”

But it is, if he’s being honest with himself, because after their Near Death Experience With Mutant Spider bonding session, Bernd’s starting to look forward to texts and hanging out a lot more than he really should be. He thinks that Marc maybe feels the same, if the flirty texts and shoulder bumps and occasional blushing when he gets caught staring is anything to go by. So when the 10 second countdown to New Year starts and Bernd finds himself standing exactly where he wants to be, Bernd doesn’t hesitate to turn to Marc-André for the first kiss of the new year.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As you can see, I wrote this based on one of the many 10-hour drives I do between Melbourne and Sydney, and I seriously love living in Australia, but the number of creatures that can kill you are mind-boggling!


	12. All I want for Christmas is some brain bleach (Hömmels, minor Ju&Jo)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which a prank doesn't exactly go as Joshua expected
> 
> **3\. The “Accidentally caught under the mistletoe” trope**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pair: Mats Hummels/Benedikt Höwedes (minor Ju&Jo)
> 
> Tags: kids being kids, mom and dad get their revenge, TMI

Joshua opens the message from Benedikt then promptly drops his phone. You’d think he’d learnt his lesson by now, but nope, it didn’t seem like it.

“What’s wrong?” Manuel asks, looking up from packing his kit bag.

Joshua pretends to gag. “Bene just sent me a picture of Mats sucking on his neck. Those two are so gross.”

“That’s not as bad as the one of them kissing with all that tongue,” Thomas laughs.

“Oh God, don’t remind me,” Joshua shudders. “I still haven’t managed to bleach that photo from my brain.”

“Serves you right,” Manuel shrugs. “What did you think was going to happen when you stuck all that mistletoe up in their house? Ask Max and Leon just how much they like torturing everyone; no way in hell were they gonna just ignore you guys breaking in and decorating their house like that.”

“We didn’t break in!” Joshua objects. “Leon still had the spare key.”

“And you stuck about 50 pieces of mistletoe on their roof with duct tape which was a bitch to get off; I would know, I got to listen to Bene all pissy about the peeled paint.”

Joshua winces. The prank had been a good one, but apparently, Mats and Benedikt didn’t appreciate them covering the entire ceiling with mistletoe, or the giant ‘Now Kiss!’ sign hanging from one of their walls; the two defenders had gotten their revenge by spamming him with photos of them kissing. And not just little pecks, either, but full-on tongue action and what would normally be described as foreplay. It was going to take forever to scrub his brain clean from all those horrible images. “You’d think they’d run out of places to take photos of them kissing by now,” Joshua complains.

“Not even close,” Mats says out of nowhere. “Wait ‘til Bene comes to visit after the winter training camp. Then we can get really creative.”

“Nobody likes to see their parents making out, Mats!” Joshua whines. “Enough already!”

“Well, then I hope you and Ju learnt your lesson,” the dark-haired defender says. “Because next time, we’re not going to go easy on you. Do you have any idea how hard is it to clear your house of paint fumes in winter?”

“I would have rather painted your ceiling than have to keep seeing photos of the two you necking,” Joshua grumbles.

Mats hums. “If you can get your ass over and finish the dining and hallway before Bene goes back to Turin, then we’ll consider you forgiven.”

“How the hell am I supposed to do that? We have winter training!”

“Well then I hope you have good brain bleach, because Bene can get  _really_ creative.”

“You two are so evil,” Thomas says to Mats in admiration.

“We try.”

Joshua scowls as his three older teammates walk out the change room, then picks up his phone that’s still on the floor. As he finishes packing his bag, he goes to his favourites and dials the first number on his list. “Hey babe! Listen, did you say you had two days off before Spain? You do? Good…”


	13. Apparently (minor Steno)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Apparently, Kevin needs to pay better attention
> 
>  
> 
> **2\. “We’re driving home for Christmas and we’ve decided to carpool to save money even though we hate each other because (*insert reason here*) but now we’re stuck in the car for 10 hours and oh God why did I think this was a good idea?!?”**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pair: Marc-André ter Stegen/Bernd Leno
> 
> Tags: love/hate relationship, road trips
> 
> With the additional request from anon: _"Hey could you write a kind of variation of 2 where our four goalkeepers are carpooling together? (Why, I don’t know. Maybe there’s a party somewhere and they all decided to go together for some reason??) Anyway, I can really see Marc &Bernd arguing the whole way, and Manu getting increasingly exasperated, and Kevin, our Good Kid™, trying to diffuse the situation."_

Kevin should have known that sleeping through his alarm and nearly missing his flight to the airport was a sign of just how badly today was going to be. He made his flight from Paris to Stuttgart just in time, and he’s waiting in the business class lounge with Manuel, Marc-André and Bernd - all of them trying to figure out where the hell the rest of their teammates and management are - when Manuel’s phone rings. When the Bayern keeper shows them that it’s Jogi, they all breathe a sigh of relief.

The relief only lasts about 15 seconds because Manuel gasps out “what do you  _mean_  we’re at the wrong airport” and Kevin just knows they’re in deep doo-doo. His other fellow back-up keepers are tight-lipped and giving each other identical worried looks, and it’s slightly inappropriate timing, but Kevin could so seriously see why everyone referred to them as “the twins” sometimes. His musings on how the two even dress similarly are interrupted when Manuel says his goodbyes; the Bayern keeper does  _not_  look happy.

“So,” Manuel says shortly, then scrubs his face with his hands. “So, apparently, Andy’s new intern accidentally told us to come here instead of Düsseldorf – where the rest of the team is and where we’re supposed to be as well – because there’s apparently a goalkeeper’s conference going on and the intern got confused.”

Kevin stares at Manuel in disbelief; he’s in too much shock to be impressed when Marc-André and Bernd blurt out “What the hell?” at the same time.

“And,  _apparently_ ,” Manuel continues, “the intern at least checked to see if there are any flights to Düsseldorf that we can catch so we can meet up with the team later.”

Kevin looks up at the announcement boards where DELAYED is displayed on 90% of the flights, and gives Manuel a look that’s meant to say “are they fucking kidding us?”; Manuel just purses his lips together grimly.

“So  _apparently_ , because of the bad weather, the only way for us to catch up with the team so that Germany can actually have a goalkeeper against France, is for us to drive there since we’re not going to find a flight any time soon.”

This time, Kevin joins in when his fellow back-up keepers demand, “What?!”

Manuel looks even more grim. “But  _apparently_ , the weather forecast says that the snow shouldn’t get any worse and we should be able to drive there if we’re careful.”

Kevin just stares at Manuel some more, but dutifully follows the Bayern keeper when Manuel stalks over to the car rental area to find the biggest, safest 4WD he can hire for their drive to Düsseldorf, jumping in the passenger seat and leaving the back to his two younger counterparts.

Naturally, the weather forecast is completely wrong and the snow just falls harder. It gets so bad that an hour into the drive Manuel can barely see the road in front of them and they’re all starting to get worried.

“This is bad,” Manuel murmurs when they start seeing cars parked on the side of the highway. 

“Fuck,” Marc-André curses softly. “We should have flown.”

“How the hell is flying supposed to be any better than this?” Bernd demands. “Did you not see they were delaying the flights?”

“Yeah,  _delaying_ , not cancelling,” Marc snarks, “or can you not tell the difference?”

“And when has delays ever not turned into cancellations, ter Stegen?” Bernd snarks back, “or do you not know how snow works now that you live in sunny Barcelona?”

Kevin interrupts them quickly, hoping to head off any fighting; this road trip was bad enough as it is without the twins making it even more tense by bickering the whole way. “Hey, stop that. We can’t do anything about that now so arguing about it isn’t gonna make getting to Düsseldorf any easier. Can you please not stress Manu out even more? He needs to concentrate and you two are distracting him; I don’t know about you guys, but I wanna get to Düsseldorf in one piece.”

Both Marc and Bernd mumble “sorry” sheepishly, and Kevin doesn’t hear another word from them as he gently encourages Manuel through his tense driving. After another hour of inching their way through the snow though, they have to make a decision on whether they need to stop and look for a hotel to stay in because the roads are getting worse and the last thing they need is to get into an accident.

“You call Andy or Jogi,” Manuel tells him once they agree that being safe is more important than arriving on time. “I’ll take the next exit and try and find us somewhere to stay.”

Nodding, Kevin turns to see if the twins in the back have anything they want to add; he’s absolutely gobsmacked when he sees the reason why their fellow goalkeepers hadn’t had any input in the recent discussions. They’re both asleep. Not just asleep, but close enough that Marc’s half turned into Bernd, his head on the Leverkusen keeper’s shoulder; Bernd is resting his cheek on Marc’s head. Not only that, if Kevin really looks, he can see one of Bernd’s arms resting lightly around Marc’s waist and Marc’s got the bottom of Bernd’s hoodie clenched in the hand trapped between them. They look  _adorable._

“Manu,  _look,_ ” Kevin whispers urgently, not taking his eyes off the scene just in case the two wake and the magic ends. “Oh my gosh,  _what?_  What in the  _world?_ ”

Manuel flickers his eyes quickly at the rearview mirror. “What? Oh them? Heh. No wonder they were so quiet.”

Kevin stares at Manuel. “That’s all you have to say; how can you be so calm about  _that?_ ” he demands quietly, waving his hand in the general direction of the back seat.

Manuel gives him a quick, surprised look. “Dude, why are you so surprised? Don’t tell me you didn’t know.”

“Know what?”

“Them?”

“What about them?”

“Dude! You’ve been playing with them for a year. You went to the Confed Cup with them!”

“And?”

“And!? And?!” Manuel sounds scandalised. “You seriously don’t know?”

Kevin would shake Manuel if it weren’t for the fact that Manuel was driving and he didn’t want to cause an accident. “Just tell me already!”

Manuel gives him another quick, hard look. “Let’s just say that next time someone starts a [‘kiss or kill’ bet](http://t.umblr.com/redirect?z=http%3A%2F%2Farchiveofourown.org%2Fworks%2F7250728%2Fchapters%2F19669231&t=MzU4NjBkNjZiOTVkMzBlNjBiNzljMWY1MTI3YjU2ZjNkZjEwM2NjNyxDcmI2UUJhZQ%3D%3D&b=t%3An-lioEUXe-yT7xoAE8b67w&p=https%3A%2F%2Fkhalehla.tumblr.com%2Fpost%2F169311745834%2Fhey-could-you-write-a-kind-of-variation-of-2-where&m=1), go with ‘kiss’.”

Kevin’s mind takes a few long seconds to process that. “Really? No way!”

“Way. I can’t believe you didn’t know; haven’t you been paying attention?”

Kevin shakes his head and finally takes out his phone to make the call to their coach. “Apparently not.”


	14. Apparently, pt 2 (minor Steno, implied Draxler/Kimpembe)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So, apparently, Kevin is even more oblivious than first believed..

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, the lovely **yyydelilah** said _"in my head because these four were trapped in the snow, Jogi was forced to find a goalie close to Düsseldorf and finally called up Ralle"_ , and I just ran with it. This was the result.
> 
> Pair: minor Marc-André ter Stegen/Bernd Leno, implied Julian Draxler/Presnel Kimpembe
> 
> Tags: oblivious friends

The game has started by the time Kevin ushers room service out and takes the empty spot next to Manuel on one of the singles, handing over a warm croissant and a small container of butter, deciding not to comment on the captain’s choice of a breakfast food for dinner. On the other bed, Bernd and Marc are dividing up their food, spooning portions of everything on each other’s plates without even looking at each other, already intent on the game.

Kevin snorts softly to himself and still can’t believe how he’d missed it. It was so  _obvious_  now that he knew what to look out for, and he’s kicking himself over how blind he’d been. Now he wonders what else he could be missing.

On the TV, France are on a counter and all four of them grunt in annoyance as Kingsley Coman blazes past poor İlkay Gündoğan and the defenders scramble to get in position to try and deny the Bayern winger a chance at goal. In the end, it’s an easy enough save for Ralf as he tips Mbappé‘s surprisingly tame shot over the cross bar; Manuel cheers loudly anyway and Kevin gives their first choice keeper a fond eye-roll. Favouritism, sheesh.

The cameras pan to the Germany bench and stop where Oliver Baumann and Timo Horn are clapping their hands and talking with their heads close together. Once again, the commentators are speculating about how the four players originally named by Jogi are not there and how they were all coincidentally not available at the last minute. Kevin rolls his eyes again as the wild guesses range anywhere from a team injury during practice (improbable but slightly possible) to Jogi wanting to test out new goalkeepers in the lead up to Russia “just in case” (highly improbable but also a smidgen possible (if Jogi and Andi had completely lost their mind, that is (surprisingly probable  _and_  possible))), to a goalkeeper mutiny resulting in the four of them being sent home (what. the. fuck.)

Next to him, Manuel makes a disgusted noise and glares angrily at the screen as France get  _another_  counter. “Fuck’s sake, Draxler, goal was right there!” the Bayern keeper mutters around his croissant.

“To be fair, Presnel was blocking him,” Kevin says, feeling the irrational urge to defend his friend.

“Or Presnel was distracting him,” Manuel snorts.

Kevin frowns. “Nah, Presnel is actually serious when he plays, he wouldn’t do anything silly like that.”

Manuel goes still, then slowly turns to him, disbelief on his face. “Are you  _really_  that clueless?” he demands. “How can you seriously not know?”

Kevin has a feeling of déjà vu, and his stomach sinks even as he says, “um no?”

Manuel just blinks at him a few times, then shrugs and turns back to the TV.

Kevin huffs to himself silently; apparently the answer to Manuel’s question was “yes, Kevin really didn’t know”. He glares at the TV as Julian trades a one-two with Jonas then chips the ball into Timo Werner’s path, groaning with his fellow goalkeepers when the shot is deflected by a French defender’s leg.

He was going to have to keep a closer eye on his fellow German when he got back to Paris it seems, because apparently, there was something he was missing that was right there in front of him. He wasn’t going to miss the signs this time.


	15. Lost and found and found again (Klose/Müller)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Miro (temporarily) loses his kids in a shopping mall, but somehow finds something else.
> 
> **9\. “I’m taking my (*insert child here*) to take a photo with Santa and there’s a really cute elf”**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pair: Miro Klose/Thomas Müller
> 
> Tags: kids being kids, Alternate universe - no football, chance meetings, meet cute

It takes Miro 15 minutes to lose the twins. Sighing, he looks around the mall to see what they could possibly be distracted by this time. He’s not too worried since they have their handies on them for emergencies, but Sylwia is probably going to murder him when she picks them up next week since she particularly warned him that the boys were  _at that age_ and he needed to keep an eye out on them. He goes on a hunch, and makes his way to where Santa is taking photos, and yep, that’s Luan and Noah in line, their heads close together as they talk seriously about something.

Miro rolls his eyes because this is the fourth time the twins have tried to ask something ridiculous from Santa (the ending for Game of Thrones; world peace; the cheat codes for FIFA2018) and he wonders what they’re going to ask for this time. As he pushes through the crowd of parents to his mischievous boys, he sees a familiar lanky form make his way towards the line.  

 “Hello,” Miro says, “fancy seeing you here.”

“Well I thought I’d stop by and see how the spirit of Christmas is going,” Thomas says with a perfectly straight face.

Miro can’t help but laugh, because Thomas was wearing a bright red and green elf costume, and had been working as Santa’s helper since the first of December. Miro knows all this because they’d met when Miro had lost Luan and Noah the  _first_  time round, and had found them both sitting on Santa’s knee and talking a mile a minute and over each other and completing each other’s sentences – basically just doing their ‘twins’ thing – as poor Santa tried to keep up but just looked more and more confused.

“That’s a good as a reason as any,” Miro nods. “Better than my reason, anyhow.”

Thomas raises an eyebrow at him. “You’ve lost your children again, haven’t you?”

“I know exactly where my kids are,” Miro says mildly, not even offend. How could he be? Thomas had also been there the second  _and_  third time his twins had run away from him and ended up in the line to see Santa again.

“You know exactly where my kids are  _right now_ ,” Thomas corrects with a mischievous twinkle in his eye. “But I bet you didn’t five minutes ago.”

Miro mock glares at Thomas but Thomas just grins at him; for a moment there, Miro forgets everything in the brightness of that gorgeous smile. “Yeah, yeah, laugh it up,” he grumbles lightheartedly, sighing.

Thomas does laugh; high and bright and so full of life that Miro has this sudden (but not unwelcome) thought that he’d very much like to hear Thomas laugh more often.

“You starting your shift soon?” Miro asks, choosing to tuck away that particular revelation for another time.

“I can’t stay and chat for long, sorry,” Thomas apologies.

“Don’t’ be; you’re here to work, not socialise with sad dads like me,” Miro shrugs, touched at how genuinely sorry Thomas sounded. “I’ll just keep myself entertained while the kids do their thing.”

Thomas nods, bites his lower lip (and Miro should not find that so endearing, but he does), then says, “There’s a café that sells the best hot chocolate that I bet Luan and Noah would like. I’m only covering for a friend today so I’m only on for a couple of hours; if you’re still around, I can take you guys?”

It takes Miro a few seconds to realise Thomas is actually asking him on a date – well, a date with the kids, but it’s still a date! – and he only gets it because the tips of Thomas’ ears are bright pink and Thomas is now practically chewing on his bottom lip waiting for a response.

“As long as they have coffee for me, it’s a date.”

Thomas’ face goes red even as he unleashes that devastating smile of his again before rushing off to start his shift. Miro makes a metal note to let the boys choose whatever they want at the café; it  _is_  Christmas after all.


	16. Home (Neuller)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There's no tricking the Captain
> 
>  
> 
> **3\. The “Accidentally caught under the mistletoe” trope**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For: [meggiewrites](http://archiveofourown.org/users/meggiewrites/pseuds/meggiewrites)
> 
> Pair: Manuel Neuer/Thomas Müller
> 
> Tags: scheming teammates, FC Bayern

David holds out his hand and Thiago high-fives him dutifully; they were very proud of themselves. Despite dire warnings from, well,  _everyone_ , Manuel still managed to get himself caught under the mistletoe.

“Really?” Manuel asks, disbelieving.

David and Thiago just grin at him even more.

Manuel sighs and turns to Thomas, who is still looking up at the mistletoe with a puzzled expression on his like he can’t figure out what it’s doing there.

“Damn, there goes my six year streak of not getting caught,” Thomas mumbles, shaking his head. “Toni’s gonna be so disappointed in me.”

“That’s only because he was hoping you’d break Fips’ eight year record,” Manuel points out.

“True,” Thomas concedes, then raises an eyebrow at him. “So?”

Manuel looks up at the mistletoe one last time, at Thomas, then to their teammates who are waiting expectantly. He frowns when he notices the phones. “No cameras!” he says sharply. “What the hell, guys?”

“We just wanted evidence,” Mats shrugs. “We weren’t gonna post it or anything.” He does put away his phone though, just like everyone else, because even though Manuel was well known for being game for nearly anything, no-one really wanted to get on his (rare, but truly frightening) bad side.

Manuel gives them all another hard look, shrugs at Thomas then says, “sure, whatever.”

Thomas gives him a quick eyeroll before pulling him close and pressing their lips together.

There are gasps of surprise. Probably because not only did Manuel kiss Thomas back, but because he’d automatically opened his mouth to take Thomas’ lower lip between his own, just the way they liked to kiss. It’s only a brief one, but there’s no mistaking that the kiss Manuel exchanged with Thomas is not an awkward press of lips by two people caught in a prank and just wanting to get it over and done with. Oh no, it's the exact opposite, actually. Their kiss is one between two people who are comfortable doing this often and with far more intimacy.

“OH MY GOD I KNEW IT I KNEW IT!” Joshua practically screams.

“What the  _hell?!_ ” David demands when Manuel and Thomas exchange one last quick peck on the lips, then continue out the door as though nothing exciting happened.

The rest of their teammates are too shocked to do anything but gape and say “what the fuck!” or “oh my God!” over and over again.

“Don’t forget we have an early session tomorrow,” Manuel calls over his shoulder. “You all better be there on time.”

Thomas walks him to his car because Manuel had stayed over at Mats’ last night and they’d come to training separately. “I’ll see you at home?” Manuel asks as he puts the keys in the ignition.

Thomas gives him a look like he’d just ask a stupid question.

“Don’t forget the coconut water,” Manuel reminds Thomas as Thomas makes his way to his own car.

Thomas just waves his hand over his head in agreement without even turning back. Manuel grins, humming to himself as he puts the car into gear and heads home.


	17. Change of mind, change of heart (Krametzka, minor Götzeus)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Christoph has been alone for a long time, and has accepted this constant in his life. But it's Christmas again and maybe, just maybe, things can be different from now on. If only he was brave enough to hope.
> 
> **10\. “I used to hate Christmas because (*insert reason here*) but then you came along and helped me change my mind”**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pair: Leon Goretzka/Christoph Kramer (minor Götzeus)
> 
> Tags: angst, mentions of family death, Christmas hope, mall elves,

Christoph closes the door quietly behind him, leans against it, then heaves a sigh of relief. So far so good. He felt kind of silly sneaking out of the Factory halls like this, but if his fellow elves saw him heading towards the mall again, they’d tease him non-stop, since most of them couldn’t understand why Christoph was volunteering as a department store elf when he was, you know, an actual, real, Christmas elf.

Truth is, Christoph didn’t mind doing it when he wasn’t on shift; he genuinely liked kids and the human elves and Santas he normally worked with were usually a friendly lot. He liked the colours and lights and (mostly genuine) Christmas cheer because growing up and living during the Depression meant that the closest thing to this type of luxury he had was when his family would wrap themselves in their threadbare coats and scarves and trudge down to Macy’s and the other luxury department stores to gawk at the decorations. They were much too poor to even consider going inside, but his younger sister had enjoyed pressing her face up against the windows and it had been good times despite their poverty.

Christoph swallows around the lump in his throat at the memories; so many decades now and he still missed his family like crazy. He wondered sometimes whether taking the then-Santa’s offer to become an elf and become practically immortal was condemning himself to a long, lonely existence, but at the time, his alternative was both starving and freezing to death, and the choice was obvious. He did make friends amongst his fellow elves, so life wasn’t completely lonely, but sometimes…

Christoph shakes his head and makes his way to the centre of the mall where the beautifully decorated tree towers over the Santa Village.

“You’re early today,” a voice says behind him.

Christoph turns around and smiles, hoping that he’s not blushing too much. Leon is wearing the red and gold striped leggings today, his mop of curls peaking out from underneath his gold pointy hat; he looks adorable. But then, to Christoph, despite having worked together for a couple of years now, the cuteness never wore off; Leon is always adorable.

“Surprisingly quick trip to work,” Christoph says.

Leon nods, making the bell at the end of his hat ring a little. “We’ve got a big crowd today, but luckily Marco was here earlier with Mario and we convinced him to stay and work an extra shift.”

“Will be good to get help with the younger kids,” Christoph replies absentmindedly, trying to remember if he saw Marco and Mario sneak out of the Factory earlier. It didn’t even occur to him that other elves would be doing the same thing as him, but then again, when not on shift, there really wasn’t much to do at the Factory that wasn’t toy or snow related; they gotta have some sort of other hobbies, he guesses.

Leon hums in agreement, then quickly runs off to stop a toddler from climbing a snow man.

It’s a brutal shift. The sheer number of families wanting to take photos means that the wait is about half an hour, and not even the most well-behaved toddler would last that long without complaining. There are a couple of tantrums, some pushy parents wanting to jump the queue, and even their (unnaturally) jolly Santa (who is so nice that Christoph thinks that he may actually be  _The_  Santa Claus because no-one was  _that_  nice) had rather firmly told a four year old to not pull on his beard like that in tetchy tones. At the end of it, Christoph just wants to go back to the Factory and immerse himself in mindless fluff; he’s taken completely by surprise when Leon asks him if he wants to go for a drink (“or a meal, because God those kids are exhausting and I don’t know about you, but I’m drained and I need energy”).

He’s about to regretfully say no, because Leon wasn’t the only exhausted one, but behind Leon, Christoph can see Marco and Mario making exaggerated thumbs up gestures and mouthing silent encouragement, so he says yes.

It becomes a thing that they do – drinks or dinner, depending on the time of day, after a shift together – and Mario smirks at him almost continuously. The day he comes home after a late dinner with Leon despite the fact that Leon had the lunch shift and Christoph worked the evening shift, Marco pulls him aside.

“I’ve never seen you this happy before,” Marco says as they stand outside and watch the Aurora Borealis display.

Christoph doesn’t say anything since there’s really no reply to that.

“You know this place, it’s not meant to be permanent for everyone,” Marco continues after they stand in silence for a few minutes. “We’re not forced to stay here, we’re free to leave when we feel it’s time to go.”

Christoph  _did_  know that, not least because Mario himself had left the Factory a few decades ago, deciding that he wanted to go back into the world and live (and breaking Marco’s heart in the process. Nobody talked about that though, because Mario was back now and the two elves were quietly happy to be back together again). But Christoph wasn’t like Mario. Mario had come to the Factory as a young child, rescued by the then-Santa and growing up through the decades in the only environment he knew, unlike Christoph who was an adult and had come to the Factory as a matter of survival. Mario had been curious about the world, but to Christoph, there wasn’t really anything out there in the world for him anymore. 

Although, if Christoph was being honest with himself, that wasn’t quite true anymore. He’d started making friends with the humans he’d met in the past decade, and even though he couldn’t tell them exactly who he was and what he did, they’d treated him like a friend who was based overseas and came to visit when he had leave and at Christmas time (not really that far from the truth). And now. Well, he wasn’t sure if he was ready to think about his friendship with Leon in anything more than friendship, right now, even though his heart skipped a beat whenever Leon smiled at him, and Christoph found himself wanting to run his fingers through Leon’s unruly curls nearly all the time.

Christoph sighs. He knows Marco is right, and he knows that his friend just wants him to be happy, but he wasn’t sure what to do. It’d been so long since he’d truly enjoyed Christmas after losing his entire family at that time so many decades ago, and he’s so afraid of letting himself hope – especially since he didn’t even know if Leon only ever saw him as a friend, either.

As though Marco can read his mind, Marco says quietly, “He’s a good guy, Leon is. I’ve worked with him for a few years now, and he really is as nice as he looks. Mario agrees; we both liked him from the first time we met him.” Marco side eyes him. “We like him even more now because he makes you laugh; I’ve never seen you smile as much as when you two are hanging out, Chris.”

“I-. It’s not-.” Christoph runs a hand through his hair. He’s frustrated at Marco being such a good friend and pointing out possible hopes but possible heartbreak and  _fuck_ , he’s scared. He can admit it now. He’s scared to hope and get hurt again and lose someone he cares about  _so much_  all over again. “I don’t know, Marco,” he whispers after a couple of minutes of trying not to work himself into a meltdown over Marco’s words. “I don’t know. What if-. What if?” Christoph leaves the sentence incomplete because he just couldn’t bare to say the words.

Marco, because he  _is_  such a good friend, completely understands and lays a sympathetic hand on his shoulder. “But what if it’s good?” Marco asks gently. “What if it’s worth it in the end? You’ll never know unless you try.”

Christoph thinks about their conversation all the days leading up to Christmas eve, where he’ll be on his last shift at the mall. Marco and Mario had already stopped working because well, they were elves after all and had another job that took priority, and even with Christmas magic, they would be still be tired as hell doing their Christmas thing, but Christoph needed to know, and this could be his only chance.

He’s got the lunch shift and poor Leon has the afternoon shift, but Christoph waits, because he’s finally worked up the courage and he needs to know.

“I got you something,” Leon says almost nervously when they’ve ordered their hot chocolate and sitting at the café. “It’s nothing big but it made me think of you and I hope you like it but even if you don’t I still have the receipt and we can take it back and get you something better oh god you’re going to hate it why did I even bother you know what don’t’ worry you don’t have to take it it’s just some small thing I’m sure you’ll get a million better presents so don’t worry about it-“

“Leon, stop.” His voice is soft but the tone is firm and Leon stops babbling and looks at him wide eyed.

Christoph grins. Of all the ways he could have gotten the sign he never asked for, a nervous Leon babbling over a Christmas present wasn’t it; but God, for once Christoph just  _knows_ , and Marco was so, so right. He slowly reaches out and takes Leon’s hand in his.

“Leon, whatever it is, it’ll be the best Christmas present I have ever had.”

Leon goes adorably red, and mumbles, “You’re just saying that.”

Christoph squeezes the hand he’s still holding, then looks Leon square in the eyes. “It will be these best Christmas present I have ever had because  _you_ gave it to me.”

Leon goes still for a few seconds, eyes still impossibly wide, but then the corners of his lips slowly tug up into a smile and within seconds they’re grinning at each other in a crowded café the night before Christmas and Christoph feels pure happiness for the first time in nearly a century.

“It’s the most important present I’ve ever bought,” Leon says softly, lacing their fingers together.

Outside, the snow falls harder and there are parents still rushing around trying to find last minute gifts and it’s nothing as calming and peaceful as Christmas should be, but all Christoph can feel is warmth in his fingers and joy in his heart and Christmas magic back in his life.


	18. Accidental confessions (Brandt/Leno)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Julian has always hated work Christmas parties, and this year's one is surely the worst. Or maybe not.
> 
>  
> 
> **5\. Drunk work Christmas parties**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pair: Julian Brandt/Bernd Leno
> 
> Tags: Alternate universe - no football, drunken christmas parties

Julian wakes up to the dry-mouthed, smashing headache type of pain that tells him he had way too much to drink last night. He groans. Not that it wasn’t expected, but Julian had promised himself that he wouldn’t give in to Benny and Kevin’s dares and teasing and constant reminder that  _the booze is free and just enjoy the night for fuck’s sake we worked hard and earned this_ ; he’s sorely disappointed in himself that he’d given in much to easily again. Especially because, if his shoddy memory served him correctly, he’d thrown up. In a bush. After throwing up first on Bernd’s shoes.

Julian groans again, then whimpers in pain when his head feels like he’s about to split open from thinking too much; he’s about to start crying when the door swings open and familiar face sticks his head in.

“Hey, you’re awake!” Benny says delightedly, coming in and sitting on his bed. “How you feeling?”

“Like I want to punch you in the face because you’re not hung over.  _Why_  are you so  _normal?_  Shouldn’t you be in pain?”

Benny chuckles, then hands him a bottle of water and some painkillers. “I actually stopped drinking after the fifth G & T; I’ve got lunch with my parents later and I can’t be hung over for that.”

Julian squints at him. “If you stopped then, why didn’t you stop me?” he demands like a child. “Why did you let me keep drinking?”

“You seemed to be having a good time,” Benny grins at him. “You were actually talking to Bernd, ya know, instead of stammering at him and blushing. I mean, you were red, but I think that was more ‘coz of the alcohol than because you were flirting. It was kinda cute. I’ve never seen you flirt before; you’re not very good at it.”

“I hate you so much,” Julian mutters. “You let me keep drinking and I so embarrassed myself and  _oh God_  I threw up on him!”

“Wow, that sucks, but it’s not the end of the world,” Benny says, patting him on the shoulder. “It’s  _Bernd_. He wouldn’t have cared.”

“That’s the whole problem!” Julian moans. “It’s Bernd. Christ, I made such a fool of myself in front of him. He’s gonna think I’m this pathetic, love-sick puppy who can’t hold his alcohol. How am I supposed to face him at work, now? I’m going to have to request a transfer to another department. I’m gonna have to move to  _Köln._ ”

“Aren’t you being a bit too dramatic? Why would Bernd think you’re pathetic? He probably thought you were adorable.”

“Why in the world would he think I was adorable? I threw up on his shoes, for fuck’s sake!”

“And? He helped clean you up, right?”

“I wanted to die,” Julian cries dramatically.

“And yet he was still happy to take you home. I’m sure he didn’t mind as much you think he did.”

“That’s just ‘coz he’s a nice guy and wouldn’t leave-“

Julian stops abruptly, his brain finally catching up with what Benny said. After a few disbelieving seconds, he turns towards the door that’s still  _wide open_ , then back at Benny. Benny is smirking. Which can only mean not good things for Julian. Julian thinks he’s two seconds away from hyperventilating.

“Please don’t tell me he’s out there and you just let me go on and on about being a love sick puppy,” Julian whispers in horror.

Benny shrugs. “I was going to tell you that he slept over to make sure you’re okay and he’s waiting to see if you’re okay enough to go out for breakfast or if you wanted him to get you something, but you dove straight into the self-pity.” Then, because he’s a bit of an asshole, really, Benny adds, “He’s probably heard everything; you weren’t exactly being quiet.”

Julian whimpers. “I hate you so much,” he whispers fiercely. “I hate you so goddamned much.”

Benny shrugs again and gets up off the bed. “Look, even if he heard you, he didn’t run off screaming last night when you were hitting on him, or when you threw up on him, so I get the feeling he may just be a little into you, too? So maybe say yes to the breakfast and see where it goes from there.”

“I threw up on his shoes,” Julian repeats dejectedly.

“It’s not the most conventional way to get the attention of the guy you’ve been pining after for months now, but hey it worked, right? And like I said, he’s seen you at your worst now and hasn’t run off screaming yet, so I think you’ve got a good chance. Good luck.” And with that, Benny closes the door behind him.

Julian whimpers some more before picking himself painfully up off the bed and making his way to his bathroom for a quick shower.

**Author's Note:**

> 1\. Ju&Jo  
> 2\. Krametzka  
> 3\. Steno  
> 4\. Somki  
> 5\. Neukreutz  
> 6\. Schweinski  
> 7\. Lars B/Jonas H  
> 8\. Steno  
> 9\. Somki  
> 10\. Trappler  
> 11\. Steno  
> 12\. Hömmels, minor Ju&Jo  
> 13\. minor Steno  
> 14\. minor Steno, implied Draxler/Kimpembe  
> 15\. Klose/Müller  
> 16\. Nueller  
> 17\. Krametzka, minor Götzeus  
> 18\. Brandt/Leno
> 
> \--  
> I have a [tumblr account ](https://khalehla.tumblr.com) for my writings and random ficlets. If you have a question about this or any of my other stories, come say hi :)
> 
> Disclaimer: I write **fiction** about real people. As far as I know, none of these events ever happened; any resemblance to any actual events are purely coincidental.


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